Child of Laboured Love
by Lady Lye
Summary: The Dragon Clan was not one to let itself die so easily. In AC194 Wufei married the heir to the Clan. Their children would have kept the family alive. They still might.
1. I’m the girl who should have been

ANs: Yes, yes, I'm Lady Lye and I'm actually posting something. All hail my return-ish to anime! I feel so old... I have to borrow manga from underclassmen. Anyway, this refused to let itself go.

Child of Laboured Love (Title Temporary)

Warnings: Swearing, mature issues. Heterosexual whatnot. Science. Potential for Homosexual whatnot. Kids being very, very naughty. You have been warned.

* * *

Part One

I'm the girl who should have been. I'm the daughter whose existence was so necessary, they created me in a lab and had another woman birth me, just so I could live. She was a Dragon as well, my Genji Ma. The day our colony was destroyed, she pressed her hand to her belly, already bulging with my presence, and prayed her thanks to the gods, that she had been chosen to carry the seed of our clan, to further it for one more stolen generation.

I feel stolen.

If it had been a normal birth, we would have died with the rest of our Clan. Genji Ma would have attended, and helped my mother to deliver me. She would have held her sweat-soaked hair back from her face and cried with her when I was placed in her arm to drink her sweetness. I know Genji Ma prayed every day with gratitude that it was she who carried me to term, she who labored to give me life, she who nursed me until my teeth broke. She is a jealous woman, and she would have hated my mother. As a midwife, she might never have been allowed the opportunity to have children of her own- she might have been assigned to nanny me and help my mother regain her feet, then wait upon her like the Dragon Duchess she was. When Genji Ma speaks of my mother, I can feel the hypocrisy flowing from her in heedless waves.

"She was a good woman, always best at housework and embroidery. Your mother was a jewel in the Dragons' eye- she would have been an Empress in China!" But Genji Ma hated my mother. I knew it with every fiber of my being, and I knew she exalted in her victory over the woman I never knew, like a pig delighting in shit and mud.

When I was a small child, Genji Ma told me about our family. Not mine specifically, so much. She didn't know my parents well. My mother was a noble woman, and my father a noble man. That was all I needed to know. "You have noble blood in you, Wumei- three times over!" Genji Ma spat as she spoke, around front teeth big enough for a gopher to chop wood with. Her hand would fling itself in front of my small face and her fingers would shoot up one at a time like daggers. "Born in the year of the Rabbit! Very lucky! Born in the Dragon Clan! Most prestigious Clan in all of China, Earth and Space! Born to the Changs, Dragon Nobility! You are a princess of our people!"

By the time I was seven, I understood that I was also the first, last, and only child of my generation. That made being a princess feel less fun.

We lived on Earth, in mainland China. It suited Genji Ma to stay, although we had few of the connections she insisted we were guaranteed as the last surviving members of the Dragon Clan. I was born safely into the hands of men who had been paid to oversee my earliest development... but when the money ran out, we had to find our own doctors. We sought old family ties, cousins in other clans and people who had left the family sphere generations ago. Genji Ma dragged us everywhere for a while, but her pride made her stop. We settled outside Beijing, and soon I knew my farm animals by sight, sound and smell. What money we'd been granted access to was used for my education, and to buy us a home. It was not as grand as Genji Ma liked to pretend it was. When I was younger, I believed her that we lived in a house much bigger than what 'normal' people had to make do with. I believed that we could have servants if we wanted them, but Genji Ma just happened to like keeping house. I was a fool.

School in the city, starting at age twelve, taught me that we did not live in a mansion, and that everything from my accent to my clothes labeled me a country bumpkin. For that, I hated Genji Ma. I felt she had disgraced us, and from that moment on, I became the worst type of teenager there is: An angry child, rebellious without reason, and hateful.

For the first time, I think I made Genji Ma hate me. It was the red hair dye, the eyeliner, and the black nail polish that threw her over the edge. "What do you do in school?"

"I don't go to school," I shouted without thinking, tired of her constant harping. "I stopped going months ago."

She reeled, as though she had been slapped. Why wouldn't I want to attend the most prestigious girls' school in Beijing? "But you're so good at it! Your music lessons-!"

I laughed cruelly. "I spat in the Violin Mistress' face and she kicked me out. They suspended me. So I stopped going."

"Where do you GO all day?!"

"To the city! To paint my nails and watch bad American movies and wave coyly at old men!" I grinned rakishly; I had stopped thinking. In the years since my childhood, Genji Ma had grown smaller, weaker, less imposing. She had always imposed things on me, from my diet to my heritage. It was her fault that I had no parents. Her fault that we lived in a dump outside the place where everything happened. She probably WAS my real mother, just making up stories about who she liked to think she had been. It was her delusion that the two of us could revive the Chang clan, that I could be a princess and she my aged dowager auntie who saved me from death's reach, whom I would dote upon into her old age and lavish with attention and luxuries.

That woman cowered from me in her own kitchen, her dreams of becoming mother to an empress rapidly shredding. "Wumei!"

"Sometimes I smile at them, Genji Ma," I laughed. "Sometimes I play games with them. Do you know what they want me to do sometimes? They give me things, you know... Like the eyeliner..."

My head snapped to the left. I could feel her ring biting into my skin. A memory drifted through my mind, of Genji Ma presenting the ring to a man in a government building. 'This is the Dragon's seal... I have guardianship of this girl, she is Chang Dragon...' I remembered the shame as we were turned away. Madly, I grinned again.

"Who have you become?" she screeched at me. "Who are you? You are not Wumei, you are not Chang! No child of the Dragon is so brutish! No Dragon child would ever be so selfish, stubborn, stupid-!" I wanted to slap her! I wanted to rip the ring from her finger, make her pay for insulting people who couldn't possibly understand. Instead I ran. I grabbed my book bag and I ran. From the house to the bus station, where I counted my change carefully into a ticket machine, and I lost myself in the streets of Beijing. For a while I considered doing the things I had told her I did... my I had my own pride to protect. Making a mad woman cry was one thing... spoiling myself was another.

Nevertheless... I had no money. And it was so easy...

* * *

The good news is that there are at least 18 pages written. The bad news is that I'm going to be posting them at my leisure. So BEG all you want, mortals! I am still in control! maniacal laughter waits for the G-Boys to pipe up crickets chirp mutters I've been gone too long...  



	2. You get one phone call

Part Two

"Time of Arrest, 2:48am, October 18th, AC209. Arresting officer, Khu Laofan, number 20817. Taken into custody, one Pan Bo, male. Height: 5'2". Weight: 167lbs. Age," the man typing up the arrest report ceased muttering under his breath, and glanced at my solicitor. The fat man shifted his weight uncomfortably.

"53."

"Age: 53. Accused of hiring a minor prostitute."

Who the fuck was this guy calling minor? I puffed up like a small bird... although he was right, I was pretty minor in the bust department, and even such primal attempts to look big didn't do much good. Really the only thing I had going for me was my shortened school uniform, my makeup, and my hair- Genji Ma had made it very clear, in numerous snide ways, that I was hardly pretty.

"Taken into custody, one... Name, Miss?"

He was looking directly at me. I scowled back. Hadn't they asked for that already, or taken my old school ID from my wallet yet? They'd confiscated my purse at the scene. Were these guys incompetent or what?

"Name, please."

"Chang Wumei," I spat, hoping to somehow wound or shock the man."

"One Chang Wumei, female. Apparent student of Min-"

"_Former_ student."

He ignored me and carried on. "-hang Academy of Girls." Like this should interest me, he glanced at me again. "My sister-in-law sends her daughters there." I gave him my best disgusted look. Was I supposed to justify his hate for the woman or something? He turned back to the computer. "Height: 4'11"."

"And three quarters!"

"Weight: 98lbs."

"What?!"

"Age..." He looked at me again. Looked me up and down, like old Pan Bo had down behind the fish market. "Fourteen."

"FIFTEEN! My birthday was two months ago, jackass!" I blustered, tugging futilely at the cuffs still linking my arms behind my back. "I'm freaking fifteen! They used to marry kids my age, you know! Some places, I'd already have a kid! Maybe TWO!"

"Miss, if you don't quiet down, we'll have to put you in solitary overnight for refusing to cooperate."

"I don't give a flying fu-!"

Which, of course, got me landed in a tiny, cinderblock room by myself for the night. I wasn't a happy camper at all by that point- my arms were covered in bruises from too-strong hands, and I hadn't eaten in ages. Apparently the cops thought four a.m. was too early for breakfast, so I had to sweat it out, without even a window to tell me how much longer I had to wait. After pacing for a full hour I paced before giving in to the creaky, unsupportive cot placed there for my convenience.

When I woke up, a tray was sitting, cold, on the floor. Ecstatic, I went straight for it and gobbled the fruit up first. The cereal was a soggy mess, but I attacked it wholeheartedly, and happy slurped every drop of liquid. It had been too long, Wumei... Far, far too long... There was more to this running away thing than a big scene at home and not having to do homework or go to bed on time.

Fed and rested, I considered my situation. How long was I confined to solitary? And did I really want out? Obviously I was in trouble- underage prostitution was a huge problem, and they weren't going to go lightly on the few they managed to actually catch. That made me grimace. I didn't like the idea of becoming a 'warning' for all the other little girls and letches in the big city. I liked being sent back to Genji Ma even less. That was when I really started worrying. How stupid was it to give them my real name? Why couldn't I have thought up a pseudonym, like She Who Gives Good Head or Wet Pussy? I mean, think of what that would've done for my street cred'!

The flat screen built into a wall of my cell flickered to life, and a woman who might as well have been a man, for all she _looked_ like one, sought me out on the floor. Her look read, 'Of course. Why wouldn't a whore eat on the floor like a dog?' The anger returned and I rose to face her. "Chang Wumei?"

"Yes. Whatcha want?"

"I am Officer Xia. You've been charged with eliciting prostitution, as a minor. We've contacted your school and your guardian." My face must have fallen visibly, because she began, ever so slightly, to smirk. "You're entitled to one phone call. We've anticipated the numbers you may want, and they will appear on the screen in a moment. If you would like to request another, say, 'Request Information' and the name you want. If you behave through lunchtime, you may be released from solitary by dinner. Am I understood?"

I bit my tongue and nodded. I wanted to see sunlight again, even if there were bars in the way. Her image blanked and was replaced by a screen of names and phone numbers. I sighed and skimmed them, expecting and finding the usual. Mao Genji... Minahou Academy of Girls... a few lawyers, in and around Beijing... Chang Wufei, Preventor.

"What?" I hissed, leaning closer to the screen. It had to be a joke. I had only ever seen that name printed on school registration and hospital forms. What was it doing here, in my 'anticipated phone number' list?

"Name not recognized," replied the screen in stilted, pre-recorded tones. "Please try again."

"Wh- Request Information! Chang Wufei!" I said without thinking, placing my hands on either side of the screen, steadying myself.

"Hold, please." An infuriating clock graphic spun in front of me, until I thought I would punch a hole through the screen... And then it was filled with random fragments that made up the government's biography of a man named Chang Wufei.

Born, AC180, location unknown. Height: 5'4". Weight: 98lbs. Hair: Black. Eyes: Black. National Descent: Chinese. Military experience: Preventor, level six. Location: Colony Cluster L5, RO-125, Apartment 26, Witherspoon Road. Phone Number...

"Would you like to dial this contact?"

I thought furiously, leaning against the cinderblocks. I didn't know this man. It was sheer coincidence that his name and elements of his biography- his race, his date of birth, his eye color- had alerted of the police search bots. He was leagues away, somewhere out in space, and nearly twice my age... but would he help me? Wasn't your One Phone Call supposed to be kinda secure, after that new legislation passed?

"Yes. Dial Chang Wufei. ...Please."

"Home number unlisted. Dial work number?"

"Yes, dial his work number. Anything. Just- dial him." What was I doing? I was wasting my one phone call on a guy who had no reason to help me at all, no reason even to pick up the phone. I tried to work out a plan and decide what I would say to such a person; wondered if it was too late to call Genji Ma and beg for her forgiveness.

Meanwhile, the videophone rang... and rang... and a voicemail message echoed through the tiny room.

"Hello, you've reached the desk of Chang Wufei, Preventor Level 6, Investigative Division," said a man in his early thirties. I found myself staring, captivated by eyes I had only ever seen in the mirror before. "I'm not available at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get back to you." His comforting tones disappeared along with his face, and another mechanical robot gave me five seconds until the beep...

Beeeeeep.

I took a deep breath. "Hi. Hi, um... You don't..." I looked imploringly at the screen, now blue with a slowly ticking timer of how long my message and my call had run. My throat constricted. I was blowing my only chance at salvation. I was completely and utterly screwed. Genji Ma would kill me, if the cops didn't incarcerate my first. "Dad? ...if you are my Dad... and- I know that's not really likely... But- you-"Before my pride could stop me, I was hunched in front of the screen, sobbing like I'd never cried before. Suddenly I felt more alive than I ever had before, and I hated it. Every tactile feeling was just way too real, and I didn't want to have any part of living any more. But my time was running out, and I wiped furiously at my eyes. "Please- Please, I really, really, really need your help... I- I'm in a lot of trouble. I mean, I lot of trouble. And I didn't even do anything! I mean, I was starting to do something... but I never actually DID anything, you know!? I just- God, I need a tissue... I probably look like- like a kid. Like a kid who doesn't know what the fuck she's doing... And I'm sorry I called you... You..." I looked up at the camera I knew was there, and I tried to look as imploring as possible. "...I just really need a Dad right now... I'm sorry..." and then I pushed the button to end the transmission.


	3. All bets are off

_(FYI, in case anyone was wondering... I don't own Gundam Wing, etc. I only claim folk like Wumei and Genji Ma. Now, go away.)_

There wasn't a hell of a lot going on in Investigative that week, and the entire floor was feeling it. Bets were being taken for when the coffee filters would run out, and who would take the last one, even whether or not they would make a note to Supplies to get more. Sally had put her money on Larry two cubicles over, but Wufei was saving his money for better purposes. Not that he really knew what those were, he just knew the office pool wasn't one of them.

Suddenly, a cry went up- a deep, dark, primal battle cry- the kind that came from the reptilian brain and called out to reptile in every human for miles. It was coming from the kitchen! The entire floor rushed to the tiny room, crowding into the doorway, blocking the tiny passageway. And there, in front of the coffee maker, stood Larry... and Sally Po.

"Hey, Wufei! Sally's got the last filter!" crowed Larry's partner Alice.

"What're you talking about, Alice? Larry took the box out-"

"But Sally emptied the pot!"

"They look like they're gonna EAT each other, don't they!"

"Ten bucks says Sally kicks Larry in the nuts!"

"I'm game!"

"Me too!"

Wufei shook his head, pushing his way to the front to see for himself what his partner had gotten herself into. And she thought _she_ had the good head on her shoulders? Maybe age was finally taking its toll... Of course, that didn't bode too well for Wufei who was barely six years younger than she was.

Sally brandished the coffee pot like a weapon. "Larry," she said sweetly. "How unfortunate... you've pulled the last filter."

"Not too unfortunate, Sally... I mean, I didn't finish the coffee, now, did I?" Larry replied cheerfully.

"I've heard there's a little wager going around the office..."

"I hear the kitty's reached over a hundred." Their eyes gleamed simultaneously, and they ignored the Preventors crowded into the kitchen doorframe. A hundred bucks would go a long way toward a CD player in someone's cockpit, or one of those massaging chairs for a cubicle...

Wufei eyed them both, taking estimates to make his own 'bet.' A few people drifted away to answer phones and make calls. The rest stayed.

"Who'd you bet on Sally?"

"You."

"Funny- I bet on you, too."

"Then I guess there's no way we can split the prize. Somebody here has to lose..."

"I suppose they do..." He shifted his feet, and the empty box in his hand. –Empty? Larry blinked and looked inside the box again. "Uh..."

"Hya!" Sally's foot flew past his head, very nearly connecting. The coffee pot flew at him- shit, wasn't that thing glass? Or was it plexiglass? Either way it would come out of HIS paycheck... Larry dove for it, tossing the box at Sally, who nearly dropped it. "The hell? There's nothing in here!"

"Yes! And now you're holding it!" Larry laughed, cradling the empty pot to his chest. "SALLY LOST THE BET!" A cheer went up from their coworkers, congratulating themselves and Larry. One coffeehound beating another! Classic! Sally just stood there, staring at the empty box in her hands, speechless.

With a sigh, Wufei walked over and took it from her. "It's only a bet, Po."

"But- but-"

"Lets go get you some _real_ coffee. From the shop on the corner." As though assisting a shocked victim- which he was- Wufei began to lead her out of the kitchen, through the throng. Wordlessly, she followed, seemingly too stricken to question him. At first Wufei was grateful for the silence, but after standing in line at Ourbucks for nearly twenty minutes without so much as a sigh from his partner, he began to worry that something inside her obscure feminine brain had snapped. Perhaps the hair was an insulator, and that was why she had kept it long until recently cutting it to her shoulders following a bad break up... Did women operate that way? He took a deep breath to say something.

"That _bastard,_" Sally hissed through coral lips, "didn't take the last filter. It was already gone!"

Wufei blinked dumbly and irritation crossed his otherwise impressive features. "What are you talking about, woman?"

"Larry! He framed me!" she exclaimed, flinging a hand into the air and sending her hair flying into her face. She muttered and pushed it back. "How could _either_ of us have taken the last filter if there _weren't any in the box?_"

Perhaps he needed a different approach. She was being irrational. Calmly, Wufei took a seat at a table in front of the shop window. "I think you're taking this too seriously." She scowled and he held out her Ourbucks Copyrighted Styrofoam Cup. "Have some coffee- you haven't had your fix for today."

"Dammit, Wufei, it's not about the coffee!" Nevertheless, Sally dropped into the other chair and cradled the cup between her hands, staring into its depths. "He must have known. He must have _known_ it would make it look like I did it! Lying, cheating, sonuva-"

"We're still on duty, Po," Wufei reminded her, sipping his customary green tea. One of the many reasons he had not joined in the office betting pool was because he did not drink coffee unless under the most dire circumstances.

She lapsed into silence again, thoughtfully toying with the Preventor emblem on her sleeve. She didn't seem interested in her coffee, so Wufei sighed and stood. Sally read his signals and followed, her stride quickening as they approached the tall, imposing government building. On a colony where real estate was expensive, everyone built up, and no one did it better than the cheapskates from HQ. Wufei shook his head as she peeled off, on her own mission now. Baka onna, when would she learn that there were more important things in life?

He waved off the catcalls that teased him all the way back to his desk. Sally would be peeved at the attention, but it was hardly Wufei's issue if she had lost money in the pool. With all intents of returning to work, he hit the flashing button on his voicemail.

"Message from 1-6994-"From Earth? HQ? "538-"China? Wufei's ears really pricked up- he recognized the calling codes. Why was anyone from China calling his work number? Had one of Sally's friends dialed the wrong number? The monitor on his video phone flickered to life, and Wufei leaned in, trying to see the hunched figure lit garishly by fluorescent light from above. If her clothing was indication, she was still in junior high: a prank?

"Hi. Hi, um... You don't..." The red head rose to reveal a pale, round face, and for a moment Wufei's breath stopped. She had someone's profile... "Dad?... if you are my Dad..." His eyes popped, and he choked for air. Dad?! He was only 29! He couldn't possibly have a child old enough to be in junior high school, never mind that he hadn't had a serious relationship in months! "I know that's not really likely... But- you-"she began to sob and it was the most heart wrenching thing he'd even seen. "Please- please, I really, really, really need your help... I- I'm in a lot of trouble. I mean, a lot of trouble. And I didn't do anything! I mean, I was starting to do something... but I never actually DID anything, you know?! I just- God, I need a tissue... I probably look like- like a kid. Like a kid who doesn't know what the fuck she's doing... and I'm sorry I called you... You..." Again her large, deep black eyes looked into the camera, and they pierced Wufei's aching chest. "...I just really need a Dad right now... I'm sorry..." The feed ended, and was replaced by a screen of information.

"This call was made from Beijing Precinct 41 by prisoner 88219. If you would like to seek more information on prisoner 88219, make bail, press charges, or speak to a police representative, please dial 1-558-675-2814, extension 62..."

...she had called him from a PRISON? Wufei stared, slackjawed, as the recording repeated itself and his voicemail kicked in with the time and date. He hadn't heard Sally come into the cubicle, her coffee cup still in hand. "Is that the Hammerstein case?" she asked.

"Yes. Yes, it is," said Wufei, hurriedly looking for the file. "That's, uh, standard procedure, to end all calls with this..."

"Great, I was hoping for a lead." She grinned. "I'm gonna go talk to Carlotta, see if I can't convince her to change the outcome." Whistling, she left.

Wufei stared at the video phone, now asking whether or not he would like to return, save, or delete the message. Slowly, he reached for the delete command, but then he hesitated. Obviously this girl, whoever she was, was in fact in trouble. Whoever she looked like, she needed... a Dad. He had never been a Dad before... but something told Wufei this was not the time to quibble over such petty details. He cleared the space in front of his computer, and began pulling some rank.


	4. Interrogation 101

I spent all day and that night in solitary. And it sucked. The worst thing about solitary isn't the fact that you're alone; I've been alone lots of times before, and frankly, I prefer it. But in solitary, there's nothing to _do._ No windows, no TVs, no books, no freaking anything. Even the screen in the wall didn't do anything beyond that one phone call. I could see the buttons on its front panel, but a wall of unbreakable polymer was built into the cinderblocks. I could barely make out my own reflection, and tried clumsily for a while to fix my hair and wipe away the worst of my makeup. Even without a decent mirror, I could tell I was only making it worse.

To pass the time, I slept, until my door was opened- not just a crack, but completely. Foggily, I struggled to sit up, and the man held the door open for me without speaking. Warily, I gave him a wide berth, and then followed him to the station's main area.

There sat Officer Xia, looking no more cheerful than she had when she addressed me in the cell. "Chang Wumei?"

"Whatcha want?" I asked impudently. She waited. "Yes, I'm Chang Wumei," I sighed. No one had a sense of humor anymore.

"You're being released from solitary and will go into normal facilities. No more cheekiness, though, or you'll go right back in," she glared. I set my jaw and returned her gaze. "First, you're to be interviewed." She sniffed, "Play nicely with them, too."

"Yes, madam," I replied, bowing far lower than anyone in her position warranted. When I righted myself, she was scowling. I followed her pointing finger, escorted by solemn wardens. Neither gave me a second glance, and that irritated me. I had spent forever trying to make myself attractive, and they just weren't interested. Then, at the end of the hallway, in the ugly yellow light, I spotted a Preventor jacket draped on a hook beside a closed door. Preventors? Didn't they only get involved in high profile crimes? Like, maniacs trying to start another war sort of thing? Maybe there was a big bust planned here in the city; maybe I'd even be let out in time to see it! As I imagined this scenario, boasting to my friends that I knew ahead of time that the local mob boss had it coming, I expected to be steered past the inconspicuous, yet forceful-looking doorway. Instead, Guard One stopped behind me, and Guard Two prevented me from moving further. I blinked, and looked at them in surprise. Guard One opened the door, and motioned for me to go in. Now thoroughly puzzled, and having little preference, I did.

It was a small room, barely 8x12ft, but it felt large, with only a table and two chairs positioned on opposing sides. They stood in the center, and one of the guards pointed to the seat facing what looked to be a giant mirror. At last! Ignoring him, I went straight for it, and began adjusting my clothing. My face was a DISASTER. That lump of cardboard they'd given me for a pillow had smeared everything all over the place. My hair was too horrible to think about, and my uniform was now so wrinkled, it would need three passes under Genji Ma's iron to sort itself out. I was so engrossed in my appearance that it barely registered when Guard Two closed the door behind me, and I was left in the white room alone. Then I turned around, and realized I had been moved from one cell to another.

The floor was concrete, the walls made of more cinderblocks. Everything was white-washed to a pale, discomfiting gray. The chairs were the folding kind, made of gray metal that had chipped in places to reveal under layers of paint in a variety of shades, including green. The table seemed harmless enough: cheap. In fact, all I could think was, 'These people are cheap as hell. Somebody must have cut their budget.' Like a tourist, I edged around the table, staring at the ceiling, which was peppered with the corpses of insects who had somehow made it this far into the building only to be zapped by the fluorescent light tacked up there. As my hand brushed the table, I looked over my shoulder at the mirror. I was huge, easily almost as long as the room itself, except for a door beside it. I frowned. Something about that mirror was not right.

* * *

On the other side of the wall, Wufei swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. It was dimly lit on his side, the majority of the light coming from a large window that took up most of the wall, making room only for a single door leading into the sparse room where a teenager wandered, bewildered and hostile.

He had thought he would have a heart attack when she entered. Without hesitation, she flew for the glass and he was certain she had seen through to him. The specter of the woman who had made him a widower at fifteen came less than six inches from his face, and in a very un-Meiran-like way, began to fuss with her hair. At that, he blanched, and realized that someone was speaking to him.

"She's all yours," said Officer Xia, with all the false courtesy typically bestowed upon Preventors who visited local jurisdictions to 'butt in.'

Wufei gave her a lukewarm smile. "Thank you. I have everything I need." The words hung there, an indirect dismissal. With a sniff, she finally left, and Wufei turned back to the glass. Beside him, a server recorded every sound and sight from within the whitewashed room. Really, there should have been a technician or another agent with him, but there was no way Sally would have agreed to come with him, never mind the short notice.

The girl was getting restless, staring mistrustfully at the two-way mirror. Again, the similarities struck him: the set of her shoulders, the suspicious anger in her eyes. Shaking his head, he opened the door and stepped into the light.

She jumped at the sight of him, and scowled. That, too, dredged up old memories. Wufei kept his features closely schooled, and indicated the chair on the far side of the table. Like a hunted dog, her eyes never left him as she sat. They watched one another for a moment, before she spoke.

"You came."

"Yes."

She puzzled that over, looking comical with mascara forming dark rings around her eyes. "Why?"

It was Wufei's turn to be cautious, phrasing his words carefully. "You asked for my help."

That obviously did little to convince her. "So? The homeless guy outside the bottle store asks for help every day. Or do you actually give money to those people?"

"'Those people,' often have less control over their circumstances than you may think," scolded Wufei coolly. "And, no, I don't give them money. I do what sensible people do and feed them when I can, or when I feel generous."

She snorted, continuing to glare at him. "So you're just feeling 'generous' today, huh?"

"Much as it may surprise you, I lack the resources to be merely 'generous' where it concerns a teenage prostitute on a planet I haven't set foot on in ten years." She winced, and Wufei relaxed somewhat; their roles had been better established. Folding his hands on the table, he said, "I do want to help you if I can. Can you tell me what you were doing the other night?"

Wumei squirmed inwardly- damn him for finding a way to make her the weaker player. She shot him a glare before opening her mouth. "Trying to make some money. I ran away from home, ok? There aren't a lot of options work-wise for a girl who's still in school."

That was certainly true. Wufei watched her carefully, noting her body language and defiant eye contact. She was telling the truth. "Why did you leave home?"

"Why does anybody leave? I hate my Genji Ma," she huffed, before realizing that she sounded like a child. "She's-"Certainly not her mother. What _was_ Genji Ma to her? "My aunt. She raised me. But she obviously doesn't want me."

Wufei sighed, sensing a headache coming on. "So you had a fight and hightailed it to the big city, with a pretty face and no money."

There was no reason to _mock_ her! Wumei scowled her fiercest scowl. "Guess you got my number."

"Remember who's in trouble here," he said, raising an eyebrow in a way that clearly read, 'Do you really want to do that?' Her glare was an obvious reply- he had the upper hand she knew it. "Look. I'll pull some strings for you, remind them that this is a first offense. With any luck, we can get you home to your Ge- your Aunt- in a few..."

"NO. No, no, no, no, NO," for the first time she looked positively stricken. She couldn't have shocked him more if she had fallen to her knees and begged for his mercy. "I can't go back to Genji Ma- I don't want to! Didn't you hear me? She doesn't want me! She-"wants to use me, is delusional, puts me down one second and tries to puff me up the next. Wumei deadpanned, utterly serious. "I'm not going back there."

That eyebrow rose again. "You know, the adolescent years are reportedly a difficult time between children and..."

"This isn't normal fighting!" she shouted, exasperation setting in. "She _really_ doesn't want me!"

"I know it can _seem_ like she doesn't... love you..." Where had he come up with this bullshit? Had his Psych training really been this preachy? He would have to reread his homework when he got back...

"The woman is a nutso!" They both stopped speaking for a moment, and Wumei jumped straight in. "She's delusional, ok? She thinks we're royal blood or something- like if I go to the right school I can become a princess and take over the world. She's _nuts_."

"What?" That definitely topped some of the stories Wufei had heard.

"She thinks I'm the sole survivor of some ancient family! She thinks I'm its heir- and she _really_ believes this." Wumei took his contorted expression for confusion. "You see? She's insane! And we live in the crappiest place- I mean, you get better places in closets in the slums here! She spends all our money on my school and we don't have anything to eat, I have no clothes- you see why I needed the money? I sure wouldn't've gotten any from her!" That was it, she was sure that had to be the key. They didn't let kids stay with people who couldn't take care of them, did they? They wouldn't make her go back if she could make them see that Genji Ma was crazy, would they?

But no one would believe any of the truth is this man, who was himself crazy enough to come all the way here from L5 just to 'help her out,' didn't first. Wumei waited, leaning forward in her seat, her black, chipped nails clamped onto the edge of the table.

But Wufei's mind was far, far away...

The moments slid by, until she thought she would scream. His inky black eyes rose to stare straight into hers. "Do you swear, on your name, that everything you have told me is true?" She nodded. "Do you swear, on your name, that if I help you out of here, you will work toward a better future? Go back to school, get a real job, start acting like a mature adult and not some reckless teenager?"

Wumei nodded vigorously. 'How did he know I dropped out of school...?'

"Do you swear, on your name and your life, that if I help you, you will not make me regret my decision?" His eyes were like coals, cold to the touch, but fiery and molten on the inside. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the devil have been known to take the form of a young Chinese man, but she took the hand he extended, and they shook on it.

Wufei rose, ignoring the single strand of hair that had fall free of his ponytail. "Soon." Just as abruptly, he left through the door.

The server was still processing as he closed out the extra light. It was the work of a moment to switch out the tapes and do a little 'permanent damage' to the machine's hard drive. Before he left, he glanced one last time at the girl through the special glass, sitting in the same place, a bewildered expression on her face. As Guard One and Guard Two lead her out, Wufei shook his head at his own foolishness, and went to speak to Officer Xia.


	5. Dear Maybelline Gods

I left that room more confused than when I had entered it. I was so wrapped up in muddling through what had just happened that I didn't give Guard Two any trouble when he handed me a pair of garish orange coveralls and pointed me into a bathroom to change.

With the door securely locked behind me, I took advantage of the privacy. Extra lather on my hands made for a quick sponge bath, the first wash my body had had in days. I enjoyed the splash of water on my face, feeling caked with the grime of the streets. The eyeliner was my next victim, and I finger-combed my hair as best I could. For the first time in a week, I looked at myself full-on in a real bathroom mirror.

I blinked dully, not recognizing my own face. My skin was sallow, my eyes ringed with dark marks that were due more to lack of sleep than leftover makeup. The red in my hair was already beginning to grow out, but more distressing than exposed roots was the complete and utter lack of life that accompanied them. All the luster I had once cherished was gone. Unwilling to believe it, I put a hand to my sunken cheeks, once round and healthy. The only thing that looked like me anymore was my nose, sharp and hawkish as ever. I'd dreamt once of saving up money I didn't have for a nose job, perhaps as a gift for getting into high school. That was when I'd still thought high school was a possible, almost desirable part of my future. My thinned lips twisted wryly as I buttoned the coveralls to a level I knew would be just barely acceptable; for all that the Preventor had made me promise to go back to school, I doubted I would make it very much further, regardless. Particularly under Genji Ma's thumb- I stopped that thought where it stood, and opened the door, giving myself back over to the guards.

Beijing being a really big city, each precinct had its own min-jail, for small-time offenders. Drunks were kept there overnight, and delinquents like me were shoved behind bars while we waited for upset parents to bail us out. My first roomie had been arrested for graffiti, which she insisted was art. The next day she was gone, into the arms of a sobbing mother. I looked away. The next was a shoplifter, caught taking knickknacks from a grocery. She shrugged, and kept to herself. She stayed through the end of the week, when a less than pleased father came to ask her if she had learnt her lesson, and she turned on the waterworks to make him melt.

But her leaving marked my first full week in Precinct 44's jail. I began to get freaked out, wondering where the hell Genji Ma was, and whether she had decided to leave me to the cruelties of the system after all. Where were my old teachers, vouching for- well, couldn't be for my stellar grades or attendance. Half of them probably figured it would be good riddance to have me off the streets. But what about Genji Ma? She thought I was her ticket to salvation, didn't she? Why was she leaving me here?! I forgot completely about the man who came halfway across space to help me, and just panicked.

That was before I got Genji Ma's letter.

Dear Chang Wumei:

You are a disgrace to the Dragon Clan. You dishonor your ancestors, your parents, and me. You are a filthy, ungrateful child, and deserve to be put to work for your country. Perhaps hard labor will teach you what I failed to.

-Mao Genji

The use of her full name hurt me more than anything else could have. All my life, she had been Genji Ma, a surrogate mother in every sense of the word... By resuming her full name, Mao, she effectively disowned me.

'Well,' I thought that night, trying to will myself out of the urge to cry, 'that will certainly make it easier to never have to go back...' Shamefully, my will was not enough.

* * *

Precinct 44, represented by Officer Xia, did not want to let Chang Wumei go. In fact, all of Beijing wanted to crack down on the teenage prostitution rings making them the black sheep of the country. China was being increasingly pressured to rectify the problem, and Precinct 44 wanted to be able to report that it was, in fact, doing as it had been ordered. Wufei had the arduous task of convincing them that in such a situation, it was far more important to go after the big fish, that Wumei herself was a very small fish, that prosecuting her would be a waste of time and a drain on the prison system, that the man who had wanted her services was a much worse deviant, and that he, a Preventor, outranked every person in the building.

Hence, it took until the following Monday for Wufei get the police to agree to drop the charges and release Wumei. He came himself to greet her, fighting the urge to rub at his tired eyes. Jetlag and long hours spent researching and developing arguments, not to mention drum up backup from old friends in the field, hadn't done his usually strict routines any good. Officer Xia glanced at him, as though she could tell he was feeling low. Wufei ignored her, determined not to show her any weakness. She would only use it to fuel her ignorant mistrust of the Preventors. He certainly had nothing to prove to _her_.

It certainly was a depressing enough station. The walls were Industrial Cream, and the furniture all looked as though it had been the victims of the many criminals trolled through the building. It made his cubicle look nice.

The same two guards were on duty, escorting the girl in a sickly orange jumpsuit to them. Her scowl matched his mood. Doubtless she would berate him for taking so long- all teenagers were ungrateful. With hindsight, Wufei could even grudgingly remember a time when he himself had been less than appreciative of the efforts other people, particularly adults, went to. He met her furious gaze steadily and took the clipboard from Officer Xia, signing his name to it. Her possessions were thrust upon Wumei and she sneered at Guard One before ducking into a bathroom to change. Wufei waited, drumming his fingers impatiently against his pantleg. Women, always taking forever. At least her face was clean now. Hopefully she wasn't trying to reapply that dreadful makeup.

She emerged without the familiar 'coon eyes, in foul mood that told him she had left the makeup somewhere, probably in whatever alley she had crouched in. She slung the coveralls at Guard Two and presented herself in front of Xia.

"You were lucky," Xia informed her menacingly. "Get caught in my jurisdiction again and you won't be a second time."

The girl rolled her eyes. 'So she's learning it isn't worth responding,' Wufei thought. With a slight nod to Xia, he lead the way out of the building.

Chill air cloaked them the moment they stepped outside, and Wumei gasped. Her school uniform, with its shortened skirt and blouse barely buttoned was no defense against autumn. She crossed her arms under her breasts and tucked her head down, hurrying after the tall men who walked so confidently with his official Preventor jacket keeping him warm. His long legs took him ahead of her easily and she hurried to keep up around the corner of the police building. They walked the length of the block and crossed the street, then another. By then her jaw was clenched and the wind was cutting straight through her thin clothes.

"Hey! Don't you have a car or something?!" she demanded, stopping and staring at his back. "HEY!"

Wufei slowed and turned to face her. She squinted at him through the wind, waiting for an answer. For one horrifying moment, she wondered if she was supposed to follow him at all. Perhaps he had meant to turn her loose on the pavement and leave her to make her own way once more. It made her feel foolish and young; her cheeks burned and her fists clenched.

He blinked, in passing, and shrugged out of his jacket before passing it to her. She stared at it, dumbfounded, while he hailed a taxi and opened the door for her. Wumei felt her face contort, trying to ask the question... Why? He gave the slightest of shrugs and entered the cab, allowing her to slide in beside him. "Do you need to get anything?" he asked.

"What?" Wumei blinked, completely mystified.

"Do you have any possessions you need to get?"

She leapt to block that idea before it could go where she desperately didn't want it to. "I'm not going home!"

Wufei sighed- was there no convincing this child? "We're not going home. You were living..." he glanced at the taxi driver, waiting for instructions. "Here, weren't you? So, did you leave anything there?"

She felt herself flush, but regained her dignity. "Yeah. I did." She gave the address to the driver, and tried to sink through the back cushion of the seat. The Preventor jacket still sat in her lap, and she wondered what he meant her to do with it. Wear it? A glance out the window reminded her that she might have the need to when they reached the ancient apartment building she had stashed her stuff in. ...what would he think when they pulled up in front of a slum? He probably wouldn't be surprised.

Wufei watched the traffic as they slowly progressed. The address she had given was a few blocks from where she had been arrested. He didn't know if that was a positive sign or not. It would be too much to hope that she had been living better than she had been working. Truth be told... she wasn't.

As they approached, the city deteriorated. Graffiti. Duct taped windows. Makeshift habitations. It was all there, all declaring Wrong Side of the Tracks, and other euphemisms for You Don't Wanna Be Here. At every block Wufei thought it couldn't possibly get worse... and then it did. The brick building Wumei directed them to stop in front of had an actual hole in its side, which the teenager nimbly navigated. Wufei hesitated. He would lose her inside such a place, but was that such a bad thing? No, whispered the voice within him, diminished over time but still very present, that told him the world had turned its back on him numerous times in the past, so why bother trusting it now? Yes, insisted the part of him that had made him come to Earth in the first place, to aid a crying girl. Resolutely, he followed her in.

She was descending a set of concrete steps to the basement, her head just disappearing. Wufei followed, careful for any weaknesses in the building. How long ago had it been abandoned? Five, fifteen, fifty years ago? He gave his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and almost immediately she was in front of him again, clutching a girlish bookbag. He rose an eyebrow at the anarchy symbol sewn over her school insignia, and went back up the stairs. He counted every step in the dark behind him, determined not to turn around. He had to trust that she would follow him from Hell. Another man had not trusted his lover to do so, and his own folly had sent the woman back to suffer. Wufei would make no such mistake.

He turned only when she moved past him and to the entrance, taking a last look at the stairs. How many other people lived here? he wondered, and, shaking his head, followed her back to the cab.

"Where to now?" asked the driver, in a thick accent from one of the mountainous regions.

"Beijing Capital Interspacial Airport," Wufei replied, and the girl beside him stiffened. His jacket rustled, and he realized she was wearing it.

"We're _flying_ somewhere?" she hissed.

"Yes. I have to be back at work tomorrow. I've already been gone too long."

"So, what, you're just going to take me with you? Or are you abandoning me here?"

Wufei looked at her, unable to fully mask his irritation. "The terms of your release were that I would take you into my custody. Your guardian could make a case to have you back. In the meantime, I'm your guardian and your probation officer." 'That look of disgust does _nothing_ for her features...'

"You're my _what?_"

"Either way, you're coming to L5 while we sort it out. If you can prove that you're not as much of a delinquent as they think you are, you might even be lucky enough to achieve emancipation." He eyed her untidy self. "But that would probably take a very good day for a very generous judge."

Wumei sputtered. "You can't _do_ that! ...Can you?"

Steadily, he replied, "Look at the emblem on that jacket, Chang. As an man of the law, I can indeed take you into custody." She continued to spew nonsense protests. "Of course, instead of giving you a spare room and some spending money, I could just check you in to the Preventors' Detainee facility until we reach an agreement."

That made her blood run cold and she looked at him in horror. Go back to jail? Supposedly the Preventors were, on the whole, kinder than regular cops, but who really wanted to test that theory? 'I never had pocket money before...' She tried to shake the insane thought from her head. She barely knew this person! And now he was taking her to an airport to fly her off the frigging planet to- live in his spare room?! She fought to breathe, clutching her bag for any tiny emblem of support she could find. Her eyeliner... Oh Maybelline Gods... Maybe he's not a rapist?


	6. Do me a favor?

  
Customs was a bitch- until Wufei flashed his Preventors' badge, and then it was smooth sailing. Onto a spaceplane bound for his colony, arriving just before the workday there began. It would've be a long flight anyway, but Wumei's suddenly conviction that she was being kidnapped by a corrupt cop bent on using her for his own deviant pleasure make it seem interminable. She paced the aisle until the flight attendants asked her to sit down while they served lunch. She fidgeted in her seat, toying with the fan, overhead light, and seatbelt buckle. In an effort to quiet her, Wufei purchased the overpriced headphones being offered, and she spent the next four hours surfing the 'radio' and channel surfing the television embedded into the back of the seat in front of hers. Trying to ignore her restlessness, Wufei buried his nose in a cheap forensic mystery he picked up in the spaceport. He had offered to get her something, but Wumei had only glared at the teen-oriented magazine he held up. Now he wished he had forced her to get something; perhaps a romance novel would have kept her distracted enough to sit still.

When she finally curled up against the window to sleep after their roast chicken dinners, Wufei carefully extricated himself from his seat and moved to the back of the cabin. He leaned against the wall next to the bathrooms, elbow resting on someone's suitcase, and dug out his cell phone and a credit card. A quick swipe awoke the little-used panel in the wall, which invited him to plug his phone in and select a calling area. Mechanically, he dialed. His Beijing-synched watch told him it was nearly nine in the evening; on the colony it would be...

"Po, Investigative. How may I help you?"

"Po, it's Chang."

Sally's voice changed from routine to surprise. "Wufei?"

"Woman, why are you at the office at five in the morning?"

"Why am I? Well, you wouldn't know, would you? I've been up all night booking Fred Hammerstein!"

Wufei blinked, turning his back on the cabin so his voice wouldn't carry as far. "What happened?"

"Is this a secure line? You know I can't tell you that if you're not on a landline, Wufei."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, tell me later." 'I'll get an earful from her and the chief for missing this one...' "I have a favor to ask you."

"It better be good. I'm not really inclined to be bighearted at the moment. Especially without my coffee..."

Wufei counted to five, refusing to take the bait that sheepish tone dangled before him. "I'm bringing a guest back with me. And she needs a place to stay."

"She?" Now Sally was interested. "She, who?"

"Family."

Sally sounded surprised. "I didn't know you had family on Earth, 'Fei."

He ignored the nickname. "She's young and I don't think she'd be... comfortable spending the night with a bachelor like me." More importantly, what would it look like if he disappeared to Earth and suddenly came back with a fifteen-year-old girl to live with him? They launched internal investigations for less these days...

"Futon at the cleaners, eh?" the fond smirk was in her voice.

"Can you do it or not, Po?"

"I wasn't expecting company, Wufei..." she sounded doubtful.

Here it was- the part he had known was coming, the word that still galled him to say, especially to her. "Please?"

Seriousness returned to Sally. "For you, yes."

Relief washed over him. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"That wasn't so hard to say, now, was it?"

"That's enough, Po," he growled.

Even without full video features, he could hear her smiling. "When does the flight get in?"

When Wufei returned to his seat, he found himself yawning. Despite the heinous charge to his credit card, he would now be able to get some sleep without torturing himself about the coming day. He buckled himself in and glanced at the young girl beside him, who had fallen asleep watching the lights flash on the spaceplane's wings. Shaking his head, he reached across to pull the shade down. Baka onna.

* * *

I'm posting, I'm posting! I'm good!  



	7. Don't chew your nails

I woke up stiff and scrunched. For a moment I thought I was back in the abandoned apartment building, but the lack of obnoxious smells told me I was somewhere cleaner. Slowly, I slit one eye open, to find myself staring at the back of a polyester seat cover. A what? Where the hell was I? I shifted to look around and found that I was blocked by a large man who looked suspiciously familiar.

Chang Wufei. I scowled, remembering his arrogance, and then the other fear returned. I was being kidnapped, in the guise of legal custody. ...what the hell kind of right did he have to take me into custody of any kind?! I had already BEEN in custody! Even if it was prison... I jumped and stifled a squeak as the overhead lights turned on. All around me, passengers began to stir, and my parole officer frowned, moving under his cheap felt blanket.

Then a more pressing matter came to mind. I had to get to a toilet. ...did they have toilets on these flying penitentiaries?

I eyed my escape route, completely blocked by the man on the aisle seat. Damn him! I hoped he wasn't planning to maintain this level of obstruction. I nibbled a fingernail, wondering just how long we would be together. I hadn't allowed myself to think about it very much, but with the clarity of a few hours' sleep, I could finally consider the possibility that he was just a cop doing that cops did. 'But why take me halfway across the known world to do it?' I scowled at his profile.

He opened one eye. "Don't chew your nails," and closed them again.

That was enough. I unbuckled my belt and climbed onto the seat, one hand on the back of the seat in front of mine. A child across the aisle stared sleepily. One foot on the diving arm, one up, over, around his sleeping form...

I couldn't reach the other arm-! My rump didn't care for my dignity and landed itself on his shoulder, startling a loud curse from him. I quickly scrambled off and into the aisle.

"Wumei!" he bellowed furiously, sitting up. His face had gone red!

I crossed my arms over my chest, aware that people were staring. "I have to go to the bathroom," I said, and pivoted smartly... before remembering that I had no idea if there was a bathroom anywhere near here. A slightly bewildered woman who had been watching pointed toward the back, and I nodded gratefully before running as best I could for the limited privacy it would provide.

Inside the tiny room, the door wouldn't lock. Furious tears clouded my vision as I fought with it. Occupied, occupied, occupied, damn you! Finally I jammed my shoe against it and sank onto the plastic seat. My fist jammed itself into my mouth, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the fire that had burned behind my eyes since I left home. Genji Ma's face floated into my mind, and then it grimaced. 'You're such a selfish child, Wumei! Look at the anguish you cause me! Your parents would be ashamed!' That argument had never hit home like it did then, and hot tears coursed down my dried out cheeks. I wiped them away with my other hand and it was like brushing water droplets off paper. I lifted my head up to look at my own gaunt face in the mirror. If I had been a mess before, I now looked unhealthy. Perhaps he had mistaken my age. Ridiculous- what difference would my age make?

I took a shuddering breath, and did my business with as little noise as I could manage. No one tried to enter the tiny room, but I could hear the flight attendants preparing breakfast in the room on the other side of the wall. I did my best to wash my face, and then returned to my seat, beating the dratted food carts by only a minute.

He looked at me questioningly when I returned, but moved to let me in without a word. I balled my blanket under my seat and tried to take up as little space as possible. Someone had closed the window in the night, and I lifted it to stare at the dawn... only to find that there wasn't one. Inky space stretched as far as I could see, broken by stars in the distance. Confusion swept me off guard. What new insanity was this? Why had they woken us all up in the middle of the night?

"I take it this is your first time flying in space?" He was looking at me in a strange way, like he was trying to figure something out. I nodded. It was my first time flying, ever, but I didn't want to tell _him_ that. "There's no day or night in space. Those are created by the rotation of a planet."

I nodded, fingers clutching the rim of the window like a small child. "But- last night... it was dark..."

"We were on the other side of the Earth. The planet blocked the light. Now we're out of its shadow, approaching the colony." He nodded at a shining point of light, bigger and brighter than the other stars. "That should be it there."

Squinting, I tried to make out the colony's shape, but the sun's glare was too painful to stare at for long. With a small hmph, I settled back into my seat, and a smiling attendant leaned down. I blinked at her- my English was rusty. Wufei turned to me and said, "Eggs or bacon?" I nodded, unsure which to choose. The food had been strange since we left Beijing- peanut butter on bread for lunch, and roast chicken on carrots and broccoli for dinner. At least chicken and vegetables were the same wherever one went. The attendant passed us each another foil-covered tray and moved on. Wufei shook his head as he unwrapped his. "I'm sorry. I should have booked us on a Chinese carrier."

Unsure what to make of that, I opened the packet and was almost comforted by the steam rising onto my hand. Inside sat an omelet, oozing with cheese. That, I recognized! Although it tasted different from the ones at school, it was something familiar on this strange flying cabin. As I munched, I cast a discreet look at Wufei's tray, and blinked.

He caught me looking, and picked up a piece with his fork. "Canadian bacon. Not my favorite, but edible."

Reluctantly, I took it and bit off a small mouthful. It was salty and tough, but to his questioning look, I nodded. It was as he had said- not my favorite, but edible.


	8. I am not a child

AN: SEVEREST apologies for the delay!! The Man discovered that I still had script-style stories up and suspended my ability to upload until today. Damn The Man.  
  
Thank you to everyone who has left such kind reviews- you all kick ass.

* * *

Sally was wrapping up her paperwork to do with the Hammerstein case when they entered the building. She was exhausted, drained physically and emotionally. She had had to run down to Ourbucks to get coffee several times, and was quite sure she couldn't handle another damn thing before she got some sleep. Unfortunately, she had forgotten about her impending houseguest.

She turned from her monitor to stretch, and found herself looking into the eyes of a grubby child who looked far too much like Wufei. For a moment, she scolded herself for being away from China for too long- the people must be starting to 'all look the same,' like she was some ignorant tourist. But the defiant set of the girl's jaw told her otherwise. Slowly, her gaze rose to Wufei's tired face.

"Sally, this is Wumei."

"Hello, Wumei," Sally smiled as best she could. She knew she had agreed to do something, but couldn't quite remember what at the moment.

Wufei looked down at the girl, and began to speak in Chinese.

"I am not...stupid," said the girl angrily, in stunted English. She turned to Sally and nodded politely. "Hello. It is...a joy."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too," Sally smiled, but she could see Wufei frowning.

He turned to Sally, "Thanks for taking her for tonight. I'll find other accommodations soon."

"It's ok, Wufei..." Even though it wasn't. Now she remembered that she had promised to take on a girl- this girl- for the night. Who the hell was she, some cousin of Wufei's? But that was no reason to take it out on- WuMEI? An odd coincidence... Then again, in some families, prefixes or suffixes of names were passed through generations. She smiled at her again and dredged her memory for the Chinese she had spoken as a girl. "My name is Po Sally. Wufei asked if you could stay with me tonight. I have a spare room you can stay in."

Wumei blinked, her confused gaze going from Sally's blond hair to her blue eyes, and finally back to her genuine expression of kindness. At last, she looked at Wufei, who was gathering paper that had gathered on his desk during his absence. It would be rude to say what she wanted to say to him in Chinese if Sally could understand... "Thank you, that's very kind of you," she said at last, giving a small bow.

Sally smiled. Wufei returned, looking more uncomfortable than he had when they'd walked in. "Yes. Thank you, Sally. I... She has all her things. I'll come get her in the morning?"

"Why bother? We'll meet you here."

"Er..." Wufei switched back to English, hoping to thwart Wumei's attempts to understand at least a little. "She... isn't enrolled in a school or anything..."

"Well, how long is she going to be here?" Sally asked. "You could get her enrolled in a day or two..."

Wufei shook his head, cutting her off. "We'll work something out in the morning." He looked down at the distrustful teenager at his hip. "You'll be ok with Sally?"

"I'm not a child," she said with ill-concealed impatience.

Irritation flared on his face. "Very well. Thank you, again, Po. You know where to reach me." Sally blinked as he fled the cubicle. Whatever dynamic was at work here, it was a more complicated one than she could figure out. She looked at the girl in her messy school uniform, her eyes like tired hollows and her lips thin.

With a sigh, Sally stood and grabbed her bag. "Lets go home."

* * *

Riding 'home' in her car was unlike any other ride of my life. City buses were noisy and slow, and they smelled like shit. The only noise in her car was Colony Public Radio chatting quietly away to itself, and with the windows securely rolled up, I couldn't tell that it was almost winter.

She didn't say much, and I didn't try to either, although there were certainly things I wanted to know. Like, who was she? And why would another person be kind to me, without any compensation? That cemented an idea in my mind: If I could make myself into a good houseguest, maybe she wouldn't give me back to Wufei. The thought of him and his unreadable thoughts made my skin prickle. I shivered as she turned off the engine, and she gave me a sympathetic smile that I tried to return.

Every building in the colony was made of light materials- aluminum, synthetic glass, sheetrock. Logically, it made sense- they didn't have unpredictable weather or a moving planet beneath their feet, and all their resources had to be transported from far away. Still, I couldn't help expecting every step to send me through the building's floors. We went inside an apartment building, styled to look as though someone had put actual thought into the architecture. To my eyes, it was just gaudy. Already I missed the simple stone walls of the town where Genji Ma and I had lived. I boxed my own ears, making it look like I was just rubbing them to keep them warm. Genji Ma was dead to me, as I was to her.

Sally didn't notice, and lead the way up to her apartment. Apologetically, she said, "I wasn't expecting company. It may be a little messy," and opened the door.

Cautiously, I stepped inside, and looked around. The walls were a cheap, chalky white, but the floor was wood planking, or something like it. Thin carpets gave the large room a sense of division, a red mat tying together a wooden bench with a television set and a couch with red cushions into a living room. Under the dining room table, what looked like a carpet from home neatly kept all six chairs in line. Even the kitchen had its own hand woven rug. I turned slowly, taking note of the antique lamps, the shelves with photographs and other knickknacks, and the simple but elegant sheer curtains- also red.

Behind me, Sally removed her coat and opened a small closet beside the door to hang it in. "Do you want me to take that?" she asked.

And then I realized I was still wearing Wufei's jacket. With the faintest of blushes, I quickly slid it off and handed it to her. Though her face remained impassive, I knew she could see the path that marked it as his. Self-consciously, wondering what she thought, I lifted my pack up again and moved further into the room. Now I could see that the couch was rumpled, its cushions not aligned. A pile of magazines under the coffee table looked ready to topple. Her dining room table had a few clean napkins left on it. This was messy? It could have been worse. My own room often was.

"Here, I'll show you your room," she said, walking past me to a small hallway leading away between the living and dining rooms. I followed, and she flipped on a light to show four doors. "This is the bathroom," she said of a room to my right, turning on the light to show a room that was equally white, but with blue features. The soap dish matched the shower curtain, and I wondered who bothered to make sure they did. "This is the linen closet," she said, tapping the door beside it. "You can get clean towels, extra blankets, whatever you need. Don't worry about asking- just make sure they go in the laundry basket in the bathroom." Then turned to the door at the end of the hallway, half open. "That's my room, and this is yours." She pushed the door open, but even before she turned on the light, I could see the 'sun' setting, casting orange reflections off the building next door. At a nod from her, I went inside, clutching my bag.

Pale green bedding demurely gave a daybed a welcoming feel. Simple prints of flowers on the walls matched the coverlet, and a small television sat in one corner beside the closed closet. A messy desk with a computer on it stood along the wall with the door, and I looked at her questioningly.

"This is my office, when I'm here," she said wryly. "The room's all yours for tonight, though." She looked me up and down, and made her face a polite mask. "Would you like to shower while I make dinner? I have clean clothes if you need some..."

I didn't want to take more charity, but there was barely anything in my bag that hadn't been there the day I came home from 'school' and had my argument with Genji Ma. Reluctantly, I bowed. "Please..."

Sally nodded. "Alright. And dinner?"

My mouth watered involuntarily and I swallowed. The woman spoke Chinese. She didn't look Chinese, but she had slipped her shoes off at the door, and her eyes had the faintest of tilts... "Pork buns and water chestnut," I blurted out. "With shrimp rolls, and soy sauce." I smacked a hand over my mouth, horrified. Greedy, ungrateful girl!

Sally blinked, and then smiled. "I think I have some of that..." She smiled kindly, trying to reassure me. "I know- Western food can be strange. I'll see what good old-fashioned traditional stuff I can put together. I'll get you some clean clothes and you can leave what you're wearing in the hamper." I watched go, my hand still clamped over my mouth. At home, I would have been yelled at and scolded, told I couldn't have the food I had demanded. What was wrong with this woman? How long had she been away from the culture? Shaking my head, I hugged myself and went into the bathroom, emptying my bag onto the counter. Eyeliner, lip gloss, a flimsy plastic comb, my wallet with my school ID, a phone card, and the bus pass that had allowed me to ride to and from school at a discount. My eyes filled with tears yet again, and I realized that so many of these things were now useless. Angrily, I shoved them back in the bag, and jumped when a knock came at the surprisingly solid door.

"Here are the clothes," said Sally, smiling gently. I took the pile she offered, holding them away from my chest so they wouldn't be soiled by my filthy clothing. "I've left more on your bed for tomorrow."

Mutely, I nodded, and she left. Almost reverently, I set the clothes on the counter, not daring to look at them too closely. A sharp click locked the door, and I turned to the shower itself. It looked fairly average... but I was old enough to know that the taps in every house were unique. Taking a deep breath, I took a chance and turned one. Water plummeted out of the large faucet extending over the bath, and I waited a moment to test its temperature. Still cold. I turned it off and tried the other one. After a moment, that felt warmer, so I let it run, and then toyed with adding cold water until it was just right. It splashed into the tub, escaping down the drain, and hurriedly I jammed the plug into it. Immediately the sounds changed to those of a filling bath. With a sigh, I sat back on my heels and looked around again. A row of bottles stood on the edge of the bath, and I studied them for a moment before selecting one.

In a whisper, I sounded out the brand, then the words beneath it. Body lather? What did that mean? I put it back and picked up the next. Revitalizing hair... shampoo! That was what I wanted! Relieved, I put it where I could reach it and stood. Now came the part I dreaded, every single day. It was the reason I had removed the mirrors from my bedroom. Now, I turned away from the glass that covered nearly the entire wall, and unbuttoned my uniform.

My hands shook, but the bath was filling quickly and I didn't have time to waste on insecurities. Sealing off my thoughts, I pulled the blouse over my head and let the skirt fall to the plush bath mat. Without facing the mirror, I stepped into the bath and sank below my reflection's view.

At last I could relax, and I leaned back to dunk all of my hair under the water. I stuck my head under the running water before shutting it off, and reached for the shampoo. Already I felt a thousand times better than I had since before leaving home. The sweat and the dirt melted off, leaving my skin feeling fresh again. And the shampoo! It smelled like ginseng, and I closed my eyes while I worked it through my hair. It was _tangled_ and dry... I washed and rinsed it three times before I was satisfied, and then, not knowing what else to try, used the foam to wash the rest of myself. After playing with the various knobs on the tap, I got the water to come out of the shower head, and, after yelping and leaping away from the first jets of icy water, stood under it and just let the water cascade over me. It was better than crying, better than being a child in Genji Ma's arms. The water didn't ask me for anything, it simply existed and offered its comfort.

When I began to feel guilty for taking so long, I turned the water off and opened the blue curtain. Only to come face to face with... myself. The happy smile fled, and I stared at my reflection, pale and dripping on the far wall. There were my ugly, wide hips; there were my minuscule breasts. There were the scars from my childhood: needle marks and archaic vaccine scratches. I shivered, feeling like a science experiment- a limpid, paralyzed frog like the kind the advanced Biology classes took apart.

Hurriedly, I wrapped the towel around myself, cursing my own foolishness. Why torture myself with what I would never be? It wasn't enough that my nose was a button when it should have been long and thin, or that no matter how much I weighed, my face remained round. No, I had been cursed to not only be less than beautiful, but to be downright repulsive to men and boys alike. ...except that one man who had landed me in jail, and, hence, here. That was it, I decided, toweling my hair dry. I simply was not meant to be loved by men. Not in this lifetime.


	9. An axe, a basket, and two straight lines

Disclaimer: Same as always. GW is not mine. Wumei and her story, however, are. No pinching!

* * *

Part Nine 

Sally set a plate of steaming pork buns on her small, round dinette table, and watched with polite puzzlement as the strange girl Wufei had entrusted her with wasted no time in making her selection. Mixed vegetables found a home on Wumei's plate as well, and in time good humor was restored to the underfed teenager. Sally hovered at the kitchen entrance to make sure that everything to the girl's liking- as it obviously was- and then turned off the stove. What luck that she had stocked up on frozen buns and dumplings the last time she was in the Asian market!

Wumei's chopsticks expertly grabbed and scooped as she wolfed down the meal. Sally had given her permission to start without her, and her plate was nearly empty again by the time Sally sat beside her. With only slight hesitation, she helped herself to a second portion of vegetables and another bun, slowing down at last to enjoy the flavors of home.

It dawned on her that she was being immensely rude, and she shamefacedly stole a glance at her hostess' face. To her surprise, Sally was smiling, if bemusedly.

"I was going to apologize that it's store-bought and frozen, but you seem to like it well enough," said the older woman in the Chinese of her childhood. It was a different dialect to the one Wumei knew, but she had spent enough time in the city to be able to piece it together.

"Yes. Thank you. I haven't had food this good since… Since forever." Yes, the crust on the buns was slightly dry, and the vegetables could have been fresher, but those were trivial details. It was real food, from real Chinese people. She opened her mouth to say that Genji Ma had always made dry pork buns, but quickly clamped down on the thought before it could get away from her. A swallow of soy milk, all that Sally had, washed Genji Ma's memory away, for the time being. "This milk tastes… different," she said hesitantly, not wanting to offend. Sally had already shown her more kindness in two hours than most people had shown her in her entire life.

Sally pursed her lips, thinking of the correct word. "It's soy. I have an allergy to milk. I'm sorry if it's not to your preference. I can get some normal milk tomorrow if Wufei asks you to stay on." The offer was out of her mouth before she considered the consequences. Thoughtfully, she realized that she had already taken a liking to this strange relative of Wufei's. The girl reminded her in some ways of Wufei in his youth: independent and vulnerable. They shared a dislike for showing weakness, that was clear. "How are you and Wufei related?"

Wumei hesitated, looking across the open area at the closet where Wufei's jacket hung, hoping it might offer her an answer. "Distantly," she replied at last. Sally nodded, seeming somewhat satisfied. "My- aunt. She knows him." How could she lie to someone as kind as Sally? Of course she couldn't. It wasn't a lie, in its most literal sense…

Sally was nodding. "Did she send you here to study? I'm afraid I don't know very much. Wufei asked me to take you tonight at the last minute."

Wumei shifted uncomfortably. "We didn't have a lot of money. Things are better here." She hoped it was better here. Even if it wasn't, she hoped that Wufei wouldn't send her back to China. She knew what was waiting for her there- poverty and a criminal record.

That seemed as likely as anything, thought Sally. The worn school uniform Wumei had arrived in and her gaunt figure fit. It surprised her that Wufei had been so short with her about the situation, but as she heaped more food on Wumei's plate with motherly affection, she set it in her mind that Wufei would give her an explanation on the morrow. Or risk Sally's wrath.

* * *

Wufei stopped at a surplus store on his way home, though he was, to put it plainly, dog-tired. It was clear that Wumei's clothes were unwearable, and although the colony was moving into spring, she would need a jacket of her own. He made a swift circuit of the store, selecting the most practical items he could find, and swore, as he drove himself home, squinting blearily from lack of sleep, that he had inherited some breed of madness.

What was he doing taking a teenager into personal custody, anyway?

He knew why, of course. It was because she reminded him so strongly of Meiran. Nonsense, of course. He would find a suitable situation for her shortly, and that would be that. Hopefully it wouldn't take more than a month to have a new home found and paperwork done up. In the meantime, she would stay with- well, with him. He couldn't ask Sally to take her for so long, it wouldn't be fair. Tomorrow he would bring Wumei to his apartment for the day and- leave her with the television. He cringed at the idea, but he couldn't very well bring her to Preventor HQ, could he? She was far too old for the building's daycare center, and surely she would inspire questions into her origin and why she wasn't- in school. Eureka.

Upon arriving home, he dumped the plastic bag with her clothes beside the door and went straight to the phone book. He left a message on the answering machine of the colony's lone language school, requesting a recommendation for local schooling of a somewhat bilingual teenager, and a quote for lessons to sweeten the deal. Besides, Wumei's accent was atrocious. Damn those schools, they never did anything properly.

Feeling, at last, that he had made some progress in this Week From Hell, Wufei collapsed into bed, and slept.

* * *

_Beautiful Army_. That is what Genji Ma named me. The way she wrote it inspires visions of a divine legion come to rectify the wrongs of the world- sent by providence to restore the Ron and Chang clans to glory. She didn't care that 'wu' is a boys' name. When I came home in tears one day, she told me I was named for my parents, prince and princess of our dying family.

That's total bullshit. If I were really descended from royalty, I wouldn't have spent all night tossing and turning because the bed in Po Sally's spare room was too soft.

I finally gave up at dawn, or something like it. Huddled in a nest of blankets, I watched the colony's lights come on, trying to simulate a natural sunrise. I was sorely disappointed. Sally's old pajamas hung off me like a European clown's; she was far taller and more robust than I. I shuffled in them to the kitchen for a glass of milk- I rather like its strange taste- and was, consequently, in front of the videophone when it rang.

My benefactor's default image appeared on the screen as the answering service automatically picked up, the volume turned down low so as not to wake the apartment's occupant. I leaned in to listen, clutching my glass between both hands. So, he couldn't sleep, either.

"Sally, this is Wufei. Give me a call when you wake up. I have new clothes for- 'Mei. I'll bring them around. And. Don't eat breakfast. We can go to Ourbucks. My treat." A fat red LED light began to blink, and the line went silent. I puzzled over the English words that I had not understood, sipping at the soymilk. Don't eat? What did that mean?

A radio came on in Sally's room, and was violently smacked back off. I had to smile. Ten minutes later, it went off again, and I heard her shuffle to the shower. With a pang of sadness, I realized that I probably would not be staying with Sally much longer, and found that I wanted to repay some of her kindness.

Rummaging through her cupboards, I found tea and tried to brew it the old-fashioned way. I had never done it alone before. I didn't like traditional teas very much.

Sally emerged from her bedroom some fifteen minutes later, fully dressed, but her hair still damp. She peered into the spare bedroom before seeing me in the kitchen, and came to see what had me glaring spitefully into the depth of two teacups.

Realizing her presence, I spun around to face her and bowed low. "Thank you for hosting me. You have been most kind," I said humbly. I had also never been meek before.

With all solemnity, Sally bowed in return. "You are welcome to stay in my home at any time. Thank you for making..." She rose, trailing off.

I swallowed behind my burning cheeks. "Tea. I- tried." In the sink, a slotted spoon, a fork, and a large sieve all waited, clogged with tea leaves.

She surveyed my efforts, and peered into the teacups. I cringed at the grimace she could not hide.

To my surprise, a kind hand rested on my shoulder. "Wumei, thank you," Sally said in slow, deliberate English, making sure I would be able to understand. "No one has been so thoughtful toward me in a long time. It was very sweet of you."

My face burning with a different embarrassment, I turned back to the sink. After making such a mess in this generous woman's kitchen, the least I could do was clean it up! "…Wufei called. He said not to eat. I decided to ignore him," I said lightly, taking a risk. I didn't want to earn Sally's hatred- really, I didn't! I just…

But she burst out laughing, and went to check her phone. The message played while my cheeks stung steadily. "Nice of him- he wants to take us to breakfast. But I can never wait that long for a dose of caffeine." Without the slightest hesitation, she picked up one of my disasterous cups of tea and took a sip. Her eyes closed with joy and her lips turned up in a smile.

I had never felt so grateful in all my life.

* * *

Wufei arrived in time to read their tealeaves. He handed Wumei the shopping bag of clothes and she ran to the bathroom to change. Tiredly, he sank into a chair at Sally's small table. "This ordeal is killing me. Po, do you have any aspirin?"

Sally took the bottle from its shelf and shook it aggressively, taking pride in the way he winced. "Speaking 'this ordeal,' I believe I'm owed an explanation."

He scowled up at her, nonplussed. "Pills first, then stories."

"Promise?" she asked, shaking the bottle again.

Wufei clenched a fist at her. "Now."

"You're the junior partner," she said affably, knowing she had made her point. She handed him a glass of water and shook out two pills, trying to be quiet about it.

"She's from mainland China," Wufei stated baldly, tossing the aspirin back. Perhaps his headache would begin to abate before they had to leave. In the bathroom, they could hear Wumei thumping around, pulling on clothes and brushing her rats nest of hair. "I got a call forwarded by the warden-"

"Warden? Where was she?"

"In jail. For soliciting."

Sally gasped. "That little wraith?"

He glared. "Don't interrupt. The database linked our names- probably because they look similar. Chang Wumei."

"So? Why on Earth would you-?"

"Because she doesn't have anyone else to turn to at the moment," Wufei snapped. "Her aunt has turned her out of the house, she quit school, and she was living on the street. That's why."

"Wufei," Sally broke in sadly, "When are you going to learn that the world isn't yours to fix?"

"When it stops throwing problems at my doorstep! Will you stop berating me, woman? The decision is made!" Eyes spitting defiance, he continued, lowering his voice. "I know it's a foolish thing to do, but she's in my custody now. If I hadn't intervened, she'd be in Beijing's Juvenile Prison for Wayward Girls by now."

"But what are you going to _do_ with her?" Sally pleaded in the same tone. "She's a teenager, not a puppy! You have no idea what you're letting yourself in for-"

All Wufei could do was glower at her. He had no good answer to that question. Luckily, reprieve came with Wumei sauntering out of the bathroom in a grubby sweater and jeans, her hair much neater, if not healthier, than before.

"These clothes are for _chih kai_," she declared snidely, dumping the bag at his feet. "I am no beggar. You insult me with them. They smell like old people and cheap soap!"

It was then that Wufei found his second instinctive parental trait: Righteous anger.

"_Chih kai?_" He demanded, swinging to his feet and launching into the dialect he had grown up with- greatly enhanced by his scholarly interests. "You should be grateful you have clothes at all! They are bought and paid for- they are YOURS. Your alternative was to wear old clothes of Sally's- or mine! Do not speak of insult when you so boldly disgrace your ancestry, and me!"

"You never asked me if I wanted any clothes!" spat back the teenager, an unkempt kitten swiping soft claws at a raging tomcat. "These are not clothes! These are rags!"

"They are better than you deserve! I should take you back to China and throw you back into the gutter you came from!"

"You can't- I'm on _probation,_ remember?" kicking the shopping bag for emphasis, she flounced back into her room. The door's slam made both adults flinch.

A vein throbbed over Wufei's eye.

Timidly, Sally reached out to him. "What are your plans for the day?"

Through grit teeth, he growled, "Enroll that little she-demon in the most punishing school on L5, catch up with work, and find a way to get her the hell off my hands."

At the bottom of Wumei's cup, an axe, a basket, and two straight lines went unnoticed.

* * *

Authors Notes: 

Aah, discord... so lovely...

ahem If you'd like to figure out for yourself what the symbols in the tea mean, go here: http:entertaining. here's a bit of glossary:

chih kai - beggar  
genji - gold  
wu - beautiful  
mei - plum, army

If you're curious about something, ask! And if I've gotten something wrong- PLEASE tell me. .


	10. Any allergies? Yeah, you

Disclaimer: Same as always. GW is not mine. Wumei and her story, however, are. No pinching!

* * *

**Part Ten**

Sally coaxed Wumei from the room with promises of breakfast, and a grudging agreement from Wufei that they would go shopping for 'real' clothes soon. The teenager refused to look at or speak to him, but Wufei, angry and irritable himself, found that he preferred it that way.

By the time they reached Ourbucks, Sally was on the verge of screaming. She was caught between two titans of stubbornness and neither would speak to the other. In a desperate play for a catalyst, she leapt to join the back of the queue. "I'll wait in line! Wufei, I know what you like. More tea, Wumei? And a pastry?"

Wufei opened his mouth to protest at the same moment that Wumei tried to place her order. They both slammed silent simultaneously, and stiffly went to find a table.

Sally sighed, feeling an enormous headache emerge.

* * *

I eyed him warily, crossing my arms over my chest. The sweater was old and scratchy, made of thick yarn that was covered in pilling fluff balls. I had begun picking them off one by one in the car, but resisted the urge to continue right in front of him. He might interpret it as childishness. Instead, he sized me up, and I glared back, trying to guess what he was thinking. 

"We have a dilemma today," he said at last. "I can't afford to take more time off work. But I also can't leave you alone all day."

"So let me go," I quipped. "I can take care of myself."

"Yes, I heard about the tea," he said in a tone I interpreted as being snide. It stung- I had been proud of that tea, even if it was a mess. "Obviously you're going to be here for a while, so we'll need to enroll you in school-"

"I quit school!"

"I know," he said sternly, fixing me in place with an obsidian eye that spoke of legendary doom. "And you promised me when I got you out of Beijing that you would go back."

My mouth opened and closed again, stupidly, like a fish on the deck of a boat that doesn't quite realize it's already dead. I had. The exact words came back to haunt me: _Work toward a better future… go back to school… you will not make me regret my decision._ I was pushing my luck and I knew it.

"Alright. I'll go," I said at last. 'But I don't have to like it… and you can tell them I don't speak English…'

He nodded, satisfied that the hierarchy had been reaffirmed. "I'll be late for work, but getting you there and enrolled is more important. Your records say that you're intelligent, so catching up shouldn't be too difficult. After school, Sally's agreed to pick you up and bring you back to the office. You and I both need blood drawn-"

"Blood?" Suspicion flared in me once again. I was all too familiar with having blood drawn. "What for? I'm not sick."

Wufei leveled the same warning stare at me again. "You know why."

Dad? …if you are my Dad… and I know that's not really likely, but- 

"I wasn't being serious!" I almost shouted, rising from my chair. Around us, dopey business people looked over their shoulders to see what was going on. Who was yelling in that funny language? "That- You were just a name!"

He met my gaze, and a shiver ran down my spine. "Wumei, sit down. Sally's here with our coffee."

She was indeed, looking worried. "What's going _on?"_ she hissed, sinking into the chair beside mine.

"He wants to sample my DNA!" I said accusingly, still refusing to sit.

"What? Why?"

"I told you I would explain it later, Sally."

"Now is later than then. Tell me now."

I swung my head from side to side, trying to keep up- then they stopped speaking and started talking with their eyes. I guess it's the sort of thing that comes with knowing someone for a long time. Maybe it only happens between adults over the heads of children. All Sally needed to know was conveyed, however, and she handed me a pastry horn glazed with honey and almonds.

"Eat up. I hear you have school today."

* * *

They dropped Sally off at HQ, with instructions to make excuses until midmorning, when Wufei hoped to finally get back. He was itching to take a swing at the work that had piled up in his absence. He needed to catch up on the Hammerstein case- and find out who had taken over his duties. 

Wumei sulked the entire way, crossing her legs and sitting as far away from him on the edge of her seat as possible. Sardonically, he supposed that if she moved any further away, she would be riding beside the car instead of in it.

Her apprehension grew as they pulled into a narrow space in front of a large, low building surrounded by well-manicured green lawns. A class was playing soccer in color-coded shirts, and she eyed them disdainfully. No uniforms? Not that she'd _liked_ her uniform…

Wufei was waiting for her to get out so he could lock the car, and she scrambled onto the pavement. Together, they walked to the front entrance, passing the soccer game on their left. Co-ed, and they definitely did not have uniforms. Unless this school put in orders for shorts that said "KISS ME" across the bottom. Wumei's lip curled back in a sneer that was equal parts revulsion and fear, and hurried inside after her reluctant benefactor.

The hallway stretched back for what seemed like an eternity. Absolute silence reigned. Wumei strained to hear the normal noise of teacher's droning, but the doors were too thick. She didn't like that. Her old school had been noisy no matter where or what time of day it was. She followed Wufei into an office, which was also comfortably quiet.

A dark-skinned woman spoke calmly into the telephone tucked under her chin. "Yes, just have him bring a doctor's note to the nurse when he next comes in. Yes, it'll need to be signed and dated. Alright? Thank you, buh-bye." She turned to them with a banal smile. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," said Wufei, stepping up to her desk quickly. "We're here to enroll a new student."

The woman rolled in her wheeled chair to a filing cabinet. "Did you notify the school in advance?"

"I called last night."

"Name?"

"Wumei Chang."

The student in question looked up at him sharply. Was he mad? "Chang is my family name," she corrected, in Chinese.

Wufei ignored her. He accepted the clipboard handed him and nodded robotically as the secretary reeled off a list of instructions. Sign here, date that, we'll need copies of her records, a doctor's evaluation can be sent later, but it must be before the end of the month. Wufei nodded once more, and took a seat in the office's cheap, forgettable lounge chairs. He pointed imperially at the seat beside him. "Sit."

She flounced over and stuffed her bag beneath the chair. "My _family _name is Chang," she said again. "You told her it was Wumei."

"In the English-speaking world," he said, taking out a pen, "they say the family name last. Don't look at me that way- I don't make the rules."

Wumei's jaw worked slowly. "You mean I'm going to be called _Wumei Chang?_" she demanded in disbelief. It sounded utterly foreign and wrong to her. Chang Wumei. The Dragon's Beautiful Army. What did it mean the other way around? The Beautiful Army of the Dragon? That was hardly as dramatic.

"Birthdate?" said Wufei impatiently. She glared and told him- July, AC195. "Location?" Beijing. "Identity number?" She had to think, then rattled it off by rote. "Parents?" he leveled a leery eye at her.

She puffed up like a small, defensive bird. "Mao Genji. Or is that _Genji Mao_?" she asked snidely. To her chagrin, he wrote it the second way.

"And your father?"

"…I don't have a father," she said sullenly after a pause. He stared and she squirmed. "I don't, ok? It was always just Genji Ma." 'And a bunch of scientists…' Her words from their first phone call echoed in the space between them, and she glared at the floor. "I told you before, I wasn't thinking that day. I was upset. You were just a name."

Wufei watched her for a moment, and then sighed. With a remarkably steady hand, he wrote: _Unknown,_ and moved on to the next box. "Any allergies?"

"Smartass Preventors who think they know everything."

"_ANY ALLERGIES?"_

"Penicillin! Ok! Gawd, some people just can't take a joke!"

* * *

Seated at her desk, the secretary watched them nervously. It was always easy to tell who would be the problem students. She sighed, envisioning the mounds of paperwork to come, and looked up the file containing the indemnity release forms. 

Half an hour later, I was put into the care of my new 'guidance counselor,' Mrs. Finnegan.

She didn't speak Chinese.

"I'm sorry," she said slowly and deliberately. "Our resident speaker is on vacation this week. She'll be back on Monday. I'm sure the two of us can cobble something together, though," she smiled kindly. Everything about her looked kind, and somewhat softened.

I was determined to hate her.

I watched her shuffle papers and bring up a scheduling program on her desktop computer. It was an old model, taking up twice as much space as the one I had seen in Wufei's office. Genji Ma has never bothered with a personal computer. She said they were worse than television. I had to use the neighbor's.

"I have here your last transcript… There's a… decline over the last year." Mrs. Finnegan looked up with an assessing gaze. She could read delinquency all over me, and I squirmed in my chair. Seemingly satisfied, she turned over the page. "However, your strengths appear to lie with science…" I could see her stumbling over the translated material.

"History," I supplied grudgingly.

She nodded gratefully and took a highlighter and pen to the transcript, going through course by course with me. Had we covered any trigonometry in my geometry class? Were my English classes focused on translation or speaking? How did I fare writing essays in Chinese? What had my history classes covered? Had I passed biology? I quickly caught on that the more I had accomplished, the harder they would push me here. No, I decided, I had not passed biology. This was probably true. It had the class I cut the most, knowing that I could catch up in time for tests the most easily. She placed me in the same level course and handed me a large booklet.

"You have space for one elective. I suggest you take this home and ask your father to help you select something. I've given you an extra study hall for today. This schedule is temporary until we finalize it." The printer behind me began to whir and I jumped, startled. "How are we doing so far? Any questions?"

I bristled, "He not my father."

Mrs. Finnegan hesitated, then folded her hands on the desk. "Wumei, I'm not going to pretend that I know everything about you. I don't. And without a translator, I don't think we'll have much luck communicating. But I do want to try to help you. Is there something you want to talk about? Your family, perhaps?"

The temerity! Asking about my family- implying that we had problems-! We did… I didn't really have a family anymore, actually… But it was none of her business! I grabbed my schedule from the printer and said coldly, "Where room 215?"

**

* * *

**

**ANs: **

So, some real progress is starting to be made. Don't expect this to turn into a typical high school drama, though. Wumei has already been going to school for years, so not much will be shocking to her.

Thanks to everyone who's been reading- DO feel free to nag me! Nagging Lady Lye is a very good idea...


	11. My Lord and Master Chang

_OMG, Lady Lye is WRITING AGAIN!_ Yeah, don't expect it to last. This is a way of procrastinating from finals. I have original fiction due at the end of December, afterall.

So, the usually apologies. And be assured this time that I have at least 3 more chapters waiting in my Google Docs. I think there's and end in sight now.

Mwah!

* * *

** Chapter 11**

Wufei could not decide if he was happy that it was at last 3:30pm, or upset. His arrival at HQ had gone largely unnoticed, except for the five people who wanted to heap more work on him or demanded to know what he had been doing for the last three days instead of working. When it became clear that he was drowning Sally offered to pick up Wumei from school. He offered her a quick thank you nod and put his head back down. That had been twenty minutes ago, and at last he sent off the email containing the paperwork that he had been forced to put on hold during his absence.

He tipped back in his chair and reached for his coffee, only to find it cold and undrinkable. Would nothing be simple anymore? With a great, having sigh, he forced himself to his feet and downstairs to the cafeteria. In the elevator he realized the irony of his melodrama over soiled coffee, when he had spent years fighting for his life in the unforgiving vacuum of space. The relief of being able to laugh at himself put him in a good enough mood to think of getting drinks for Wumei and Sally as well, and he got them back to his desk shortly before both women arrived.

Sally, always kind, spied the cups sitting on his desk. "Wufei! Are you planning to drink all three of those yourself?" Behind her, Wumei suspiciously eyed everything and everyone around her.

"Onna, I got them for you. Don't be stupid. Everyone knows your brain stops functioning without it. We should get you an IV drip," he snapped.

"Wufei, you shouldn't have," Sally grinned an apology and took the coffee for herself, handing the tea to Wumei. "There should be sugar and milk in the kitchen," she told her. "Help yourself. It's just down the passageway." With the faintest roll of the eyes, Wumei disappeared beyond their cubicle. Sally instantly sobered. "What _are_ you going to do with her today?"

The performance irritated him more than if it had been genuine. "How should I know?"

"You said you needed to get a DNA test done. So, take the rest of the day off and go. You look exhausted. Just explain to Une that it's a family emergency. She'll understand. No one's going to miss you for one more evening. And then it'll be the weekend and you can sort everything out then."

He hated it when she was so practical. It was those damned womanly instincts of hers, always gravitating towards the most levelheaded course of action. Really, he doubted than anyone ourside of his immediate workgroup at HQ was even aware that he was back. …and he could use that to his advantage. Standing, he grabbed his coat and a short stack of folders concerning their progress on various cases. "I'll let you know what's happening."

"Take her coat-" Sally said quickly, grabbing the bundle Wumei had dropped on the filing cabinet. It was Wufei's Preventor jacket. "And see if you can't get her a new one while you're out. She'll freeze in this weather without one."

Wufei grabbed it from her and marched down the hallway, knocking on the doorframe of the kitchen before sticking his head in. "We're going."

"Where?" Wumei frowned, sipping her tea experimentally, several packets of artificial sugar open on the table in front of her.

Without replying, he tossed the jacket to her. "You can bring the tea with you, just don't spill it in the car. If we get there early, we can finish sooner and maybe I can get you your own jacket so I can have mine back."

Her ears pricked up at the idea of shopping, and she hurried after him to the elevator. He didn't alter his pace, and she had to skip to keep up, juggling her tea in one hand and pulling on one arm of the jacket with the other. Heads turned as they crossed the office, but Wufei ignored them. After a moment, she followed his lead, and just looked forward. She didn't like the questions she saw in their eyes.

In the elevator, she watched his face in the reflective metal paneling. He didn't return her look until the very last possible moment before the doors opened, and then he was striding out into the lobby. Wumei didn't bother to look around herself there- she had had plenty of time to stare the night before when Wufei got her clearance to go upstairs. She trotted after him outside to his car, a compact, low-riding black car with very respectable horsepower. She slipped into the passenger side without complaint, and kept quiet until they had left the parking lot and were on the road.

"Where are we going?"

"According to the Beijing database, your only legal guardian was Mao Genji. Your parents are listed as deceased. I want to see if you have any living relatives," he said, eyes still on the road.

His bland tone of voice immediately made her suspicious. "They're all dead. Like my parents," she said carefully.

"You don't want to go back to Mao Genji, right?"

"No…"

"Then we're going to do this."

* * *

I hadn't the faintest clue what he was getting at, but I figured it was best to keep my mouth shut. A decent night's sleep had restored some of my "audacity" as Genji Ma had called it. If he was taking me somewhere boring, stupid, or dangerous, I was quite confident I could just kick him in the nuts and make my escape. I didn't look quite so pitiful today, although I had had to borrow some of Sally's makeup to make myself look fully human. I decided not to pester him for the rest of the trip, and instead observed where we were going.

The first thing I noticed was the 'sky.' It was literally made entirely of metal paneling, with various ducts, vents, pipes, and lights every so often. Directly up were a multitude of lights meant to replicate the sun, and I had to look away quickly. Something gave the upper reaches a bluish color, but there were no clouds. I didn't think I liked the boxed-in feeling very much. It created a feeling of being half outside and half in a gigantic oven. Nevertheless, trees grew, small birds flew, and lawns were being mowed. I stared openly at the live greenery, and for the first time I realized that _every thing_ had had to be imported from Earth. I was in mankind's greatest artificial life support experiment, ever.

The massive skyscrapers of 'downtown' gave way to slightly shorter ones, and Wufei took us into a parking garage- necessarily above ground. I followed him into another elevator, and up to a floor marked with the international symbol of the Red Cross, despite its disbanding several decades before. I wasn't familiar with the complex words on the label beside it, but I amused myself with sounding them out. We got off in what to all intents and purposes looked like a very small hospital. I blinked, taken aback. Everything was sterile and clean, with nurses in pink and white peppermint stripes and tennis shoes maintaining order. Now I _really_ didn't know what to expect, and I just followed Wufei past the main desk to a closed door, its sign beginning with an "F." Fo-ren-sic. What the hell was that?

He barely knocked before going in, and I followed. Inside was more like a university research lab than a hospital. Again I stared, quite sure that my life had become a science fiction novel. The similarity to the medical visits of my early years made goosebumps rise under my hideous sweater.

A man stood over a desk in the back, typing quickly onto a computer while an open notebook sat beside him. He glanced up at our approach and waved. "Wufei. What brings you here?"

"Hello, John," replied my Lord And Master Chang, offering his hand in the Western way. They shook. "This is Wumei."

"Oh. Hello, Wumei," he said, offering his hand to me. I took it; it was clammy. "What's the deal today?" Wufei took his elbow and steered him away from me, and I lost the thread of their conversation. My English wasn't good enough to follow science jargon. I glanced at the desk and grimaced. If someone ever told me to read a book with print that tiny, I would kick them. I'd rather spend a year with Wufei than have to read _that._

Speak of the devil, he turned and beckoned me over to a set of chairs. "Take off your jacket," he said in Chinese. I scowled, certain he thought I was too dumb to understand English. I'd followed everything else he'd said, hadn't I? Eyeing him and his companion, I did, taking a seat. Surprisingly, he also sat, and rolled up the sleeve of his sweater. My eyes bulged. Where had the man hidden that sort of muscle?! Who had he trained under? When? Those were more than just casual 'I go to the gym twice a week,' arms.

The man called John bent over my arm, tying a rubber strap around my bicep. I frowned- I had been a small child the last time someone did that. I shot a glare at Wufei. "What's he doing?"

"He needs a blood sample."

"Why does he need that?" I objected, jerking my arm away as John turned it over, pressing my inner wrist and elbow for veins. "I don't have any diseases."

Wufei looked thoughtful, and switched to English. "Can you do a general health diagnostic on her, too? She was in… questionable company for a while."

"Questi- What is your issue, Chang?" I demanded in Chinese. "What business is it of yours what's in my blood?" A cold swab wiped my wrist clean and I couldn't help shivering. Was I going to let him do this to me? Take my blood from my body and run who knew what sort of tests on it?

"Wumei, look at me," Wufei said evenly. Like a fool, I did. And then I cried out as a stab of fire injected itself under my skin. I GLARED at John, who grinned sheepishly.

"That's not fair," I ground out in English so even he could understand.

"Sorry," John replied, and he really did sound sorry.

"Wumei," Wufei sighed, "Just let him do his job."

I opened my mouth to tell him where he could shove his long-suffering attitude, but then I caught sight of the tube filling with my blood, and I became transfixed. Up the tube it slid, into the chamber. Like a 'flu shot gone backwards. It flowed upward, defying gravity, as though it had a life of its own, and suddenly I didn't want John to stop. When he reached to remove the tube, I actually felt a pang of sorrow- I wouldn't be able to watch my life propel a liquid anymore, but to my joy he inserted a new barrel to the needle in my skin, and that one filled too.

When he finally did take it out, I watched him intently, my head following him as he took the tubes of blood away. Then I saw Wufei looking at me with the most infuriatingly amused smirk on his face, and I whipped my face away. A bandaid with cotton under it was fixed over the tiny dot of blood that marked where the needle had been, and I dutifully sat with my fingers pressed against it while the process was repeated with Wufei. He grit his teeth as the needle went in, but otherwise did not flinch. I felt somehow superior for that.

He pressed against his own bandage for a moment. "Thank you, John."

"Hey, no problem. It should be about two weeks for all the results to come in."

We both blanched, me because Wufei did. "But… the crucial one. That'll be ready sooner, right?"

"No…" said John carefully, looking him in the eye. "That could take the longest. It's not an easy test, Wufei. It takes a while. There's not much to hurry it, especially since I'm not the one who'll study the results. And before you say anything, it _will_ be anonymous."

Wufei snapped his mouth shut and nodded. He stood, nodding at me to do so too. I shrugged into the jacket, careful not to dislodge the bandage. "Good bye, John."

"Bye. Nice to meet you, Wuf- Wu_mei_, right?" he corrected himself sheepishly. I nodded, and waved as we left.

"That's going to be a problem," Wufei mused, as we made a path back to the elevator.

"What will?" I asked suspiciously. I was already preparing to hammer him until I got the real reason for this little detour. The fascination had worn off and the practical fears were back.

"That our names are so similar." He jabbed a finger at the elevator's down button, pleased as it immediately opened for us. "Do you have a nickname?"

I followed him in, eyeing him warily. "No. Do you?"

"No. Which I suppose leaves us at a standstill. Except that everyone here knows me, and you're the new girl. So, what are we going to call you?"

"I have a name," I huffed. "It isn't my fault that it sounds just like yours. It's not written same- it's these dumb Westerners who-"

"Mei."

I scowled. He wanted to play that game, did he? "Fei."

His eyes narrowed. "Mei," he said warningly.

"Fei," I said, tilting my head defiantly.

"_Wumei._"

"Now you have it."

"Mei."

"No. My name is Wumei."

He was starting to turn red, beginning at his hairline. "People are going to confuse us. Do you want to be called Wufei again?"

That decided it. "Fine. But you can't call me Mei. You can introduce me as Mei, but _you_ can't call me Mei," I declared. We were quiet a moment, as the elevator pinged closer to our floor of the parking garage.

"Alright. Wumei."

"Thank you. Officer Chang."

He shook his head as the doors opened. "Don't call me that," he said, and left the elevator. "It makes me feel old."


	12. Missing: a teenage girl

**Author's Notes: **Mein gott, another chapter! Procrastination from finals is a beautiful thing.

The Changs now have 2 weeks before they find out the lab results. I have some ideas for that time, but it's tougher than you might think. Serious ideas are, of course, welcome. (ie, not: OMGXX0RS Wufei has to go BRA SHOPPING! L0LZ!) I don't want this to be a stereotypical anything. I approach this fic from a realist POV. Wumei's origin comes from info in Ground Zero, and I want to keep this all relatively plausible.

If you're reading, _please_ leave a comment. This whole site feels dead these days, and I know someone's reading this stuff cuz the stats say so-! ...unless you're all just webcrawlers. How embarrassing. _  
_

**-Lady Lye **

* * *

**Chapter Twelve **

I don't actually know why I wanted him to call me by my full name. Something about the way he said it made it feel more official, like it was a name I owned and deserved. Feeling smug, I left him alone while we drove to- a genuine mega-mall. We're talking a full city block, three stories up, with five levels of parking. I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Even if Genji Ma had never given me much money, I'd spent most of my free time in Beijing hanging around one superstore or the other.

I was nearly bouncing when I hopped out of the car, and he gave me the oddest look. I ignored him completely, and tossed him his jacket so that I would be free to try on anything I wanted to. Sure, we were there to make sure I survived the winter, but what'd it matter if I indulged my girlish love of make-believe for a few hours?

As everyone knows, a teenage girl can sniff out a clothing store from thirty miles away. Wufei can not. I was happy, happy, happy, to be in a gigantic, artificially temperate, fluorescent-lit building with potted plants and raring to go, but Wufei stopped- like a fuddy-duddy old person- at the mall map in its big glowing box. Couldn't take more than a minute, right? I peered around the other side to see an ad for a new movie that wasn't going to be out in Beijing for months, and then it would be in crappy subtitles. The English-speaking world got all the English movies first, of course. My passing acquaintance with English warred with my desire to see the movie, and I was just deciding how best to convince Wufei to leave me there for the rest of the evening, when I realized that he was still studying the map. Now _that_ was embarrassing.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, peering around the box at him.

He glared at me. "I'm trying to find a store that sells coats so you can get one."

A disgusted 'pah!' sound blew out of me and I grabbed his arm, startling him into looking me straight in the face. "No one reads the map. We just wander around and we walk into a store that looks like it has coats. Ok?"

I shouldn't have asked. He turned back to the map and pointed a decisive finger at a bright purple square. "We're going here. And no wandering off. If you disappear, I'll have to call mall security." I rolled my eyes. "They'll be able to bring up your records." Even my arms paled. No one needed to see that I had been in prison only two days ago. I muttered something and we made our way to the store.

It was a sporting goods place, packed with skis, snowboards, goggles, and industrial-sized parkas. I eyed them in distaste as Wufei went decisively to a rack to thumb through them. Who did he think I was, some floozie from the ghetto? I knew all about that American subculture and I wasn't interested. He was still engrossed, so I turned around and walked out, back into the pristine, artificial mall. I was nearly fifteen years old, and I was in a mall- a genuine, Western mall, not an Asian facsimile. The West had _invented_ the mall. And the mall had invented teenagers, to do its capitalist bidding.

'Alright,' I told myself, looking around. 'If I were a really cool- really _warm_- jacket… where would I be?' With this directive in mind, I began to browse. I had gotten really good at window-shopping in Beijing, and now I put my skills to best use. As I walked, I made note of anything with a number, especially those with a percent symbol, and 'sale' or 'off' following them. I soon learned that a pair of sneakers could cost nearly 100 colonial dollars, and that a bottle of "body wash" like the kind Sally had could be as little as 14. Puzzled, I continued looking, and found myself outside what could only have been a trendy fashion store… for girls half my age. How was _that_ for depressing? I could feel the years weighing me down as elementary schoolers imperiously told their mothers to find them jeans in a smaller size. Thankfully, two stores down was a _truly_ fashionable place.

_Stellar Imports, Inc._ featured flat mannequins like silhouettes of gorgeous women, and none of the bright colors made to appeal to children. Like a moth, I was drawn to its light, and before I knew it, I had an armful of clothing, including three jackets, each more luscious than the last.

* * *

Wufei was starting to panic. Not that the words 'Wufei' and 'panic' were ever meant to be in the same sentence, but he had to admit to himself, striding quickly up and down the mall concourse, that he was, in fact, panicking. All the signs were there- an aggravated heartbeat, racing, irrational thoughts, the inability to reach a conclusion. Panic was starting to seriously override logic, and if he let that happen, he could well lose any hope of finding Wumei. And then he would come under suspicion from Internal Affairs, and everything he had feared would appear suspicious would be held against him. He could even be accused of helping the girl escape!

No, Wufei, now was not the time to panic. Slowing his stride to a walk, he took a slow, deep breath. She had seemed excited about coming to the mall, and she didn't have any money, so it was unlikely that she would run away now, before he had paid for anything. That thought made him check his wallet, just to be sure, and, yes, his cards and cash were still there. He would've skinned her alive if she'd taken anything. He told the nagging voice in his head that it wasn't unreasonable to suspect a girl who had spent time- all of a week- on the street.

"Excuse me," said a distressed woman to Wufei's left. "Have you seen my son? He's only four years old… We were in the toy store…"

"Ma'am, if you could please fill out this form with his name and description…"

Wufei turned, and blanched at the sign over the mall's center kiosk. Customer Information: Lost & Found. How utterly obvious. Feeling foolish, he approached the counter.

A college student in a volunteer t-shirt smiled wearily at him. "How may I help you?"

"I've… lost someone."

"Ah." The girl nodded and handed him a clipboard. "Please fill out his or her name, age, and description, and we'll begin looking for… your child?"

That was unconfirmed. "Niece. Actually." Quickly he filled out the form and handed it back to the volunteer.

She skimmed it and blinked at him. "She's… how old?"

"About fourteen. I think." Thank the gods he hadn't told them she was his daughter- the woman would probably think he was mad not to know his own child's age. That thought made him feel rather ill.

The girl shrugged and picked up a walkie talkie by her hand. "Missing: a teenage girl, about fourteen years old, Asian." She waited a moment while various security officers buzzed back crackling replies. Wufei tapped his pen against the counter uncomfortably and watched a little boy shamefacedly walk over to his mother, who scolded him profusely. Damn right. When he found that girl, he was going to give her the yelling of her life. "No one's seen her," said the volunteer. "I can make an announcement over the speakers…"

A vengeful gleam lit Wufei's dark eyes. "Yes… Please…"

"Chang Wumei. Chang Wumei. Please report to the central information kiosk located in the center of each floor. Repeat, Chang Wumei. Chang Wu-"

"ONNA! Get down here IMMEDIATELY!"

Wumei's eyes widened, and her cheeks burst to fiery life. Other customers in the store glanced at one another questioningly, and then at her. Quickly she ducked below the level of the clothes rack she was examining and buried her face in a row of sleeves. Oh, the humiliation! How many times had she and her friends chuckled meanly when some hapless toddler's name was called across the mall?

'He must be so angry with me…' She looked at the pile of clothes in her arm. 'He'll never buy me _any of this!_'

"Chang Wumei! Chang Wum-"

"Wumei, if you don't-"

"Sir, PLEASE!"

Swallowing a sudden lump in her throat, she discreetly left the wardrobe she had assembled on a clothing display, and made her way out of the store with as much dignity as possible. Her cheeks still burned, and she knew with all certainty that every person in the mall _must_ know it was her, she was the one in trouble. She knew what information was… but what was a kiosk? Confused, she looked around, and promptly wished she hadn't. In the middle of the mall was a hexagonal stand, and fighting over a microphone with one of the women in the stand was Wufei. She very nearly covered her face with her hand and walked away, but that would only have made him angrier.

She did put her hand up, however. As she approached the stall, the volunteer gasped and pointed at her. Nervously, Wumei peeked out between her fingers.

Even Genji Ma rarely got that furious.

In loud, loose Chinese, Wufei began to bellow. "Wumei! Where have you BEEN? I specifically told you when we came in that you weren't to wander off and what have you done? Disappeared! Made me search high and low for you! What were you thinking?! What kind of responsibility is that? How can I trust you if you can't even do _this?_"

Now it wasn't only her cheeks that burned; her entire face was hot. Stolidly, she took the full brunt of his tirade, gritting her teeth and fighting the tremble in her lips. Her arms crossed and hugged her thin chest, unconsciously trying to protect herself. His rage rose like a wall between them, and she wanted to cry. How _could_ he trust her now? For she had realized that a treat such as a shopping mall was indeed some kind of trust.

He paused for breath and to run a frustrated hand over his hair, smoothing back the loose strands. Very quietly, in front of every staring person in the mall center, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

It was as though a needle had burst the worst of Wufei's anger; he deflated, and suddenly a very tired man stood before Wumei. All was still, and people began to move around the mall once more. The volunteer busied herself making a note on the form that Wumei had indeed been found.

"I'm really sorry…"

Wufei shook his head, walking toward her. He stopped when she took an instinctive step backward. Gruffly, he walked past her instead. "Lets go get dinner."

Not that either of them particularly felt like eating just then.

* * *

I followed him, my head down. My stomach had turned into a heavy knot, pulled sickeningly tight. I was glad when we were lost in the crowds of shoppers; no one who had watched our scene at the kiosk would be able to stare at us anymore. My face was still hot, but at least the urge to cry had disappeared, replaced by a desire to sink into the floor and die.

Wufei walked past the cheap, generic restaurant chain and then backed up and asked the hostess for a table for two. I hunched my shoulders up further; he wanted to lock me in a booth and lecture.

But they were out of booths, and we wound up at a proper table beneath a window onto the outside--the relative outside. The colony might as well have been a gigantic mall with cars and houses and hospitals inside it. Both of them lost their appeal for me right then and there. Still, I had always liked the way city lights looked like fairy lights, and so I scooted as close to the window as I could and let Wufei put his back to the rest of the restaurant. I should have felt trapped against the wall, but the openness of the glass let me imagine that if I really needed to run, I could fling myself away and into the night.

He picked up his menu and opened it to the specials. "How well can you read?"

I didn't look up. "I don't know."

"A menu?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." I still hadn't touched mine.

Wufei turned the menu around so it faced me and pointed to the headers. "Appetizers, Entrees, Desserts. Beef, Chicken, Pasta, Fish."

"I know _that_ much," I said, pursing my lips.

"You want help or you want to order deep-fried cheese?"

I looked up in horror. "Deep-fried _what?"_

"Cheese," he pointed it out under Appetizers. I clutched at the page, tilting it so I could read it better, my lips moving soundlessly. It was certainly fried something with cheese. Disgusting.

I looked at the rest of the pages and pointed to one. "They make egg rolls?"

Wufei grimaced. "Not real egg rolls. Avoid the imitation Chinese food. Their traditional Western stuff is better."

I nodded and looked again--coming to an abrupt halt when I spotted the photograph of a round pie covered in cheese. "That! That! Pizza!"

Wufei pulled th epage back to look at it in surprise. I could see him puzzling through my pronunciation and matching it with the image. "Pizza? You want pizza?"

"Yes! Real pizza!" I was ecstatic, practically bouncing in my seat. I had never had true pizza before, only seen it in movies. This was what Western teenagers ate when they went to the mall! Wouldn't all the girls back in Beijing be jealous-! Wufei was ordering for us, speaking to the server in English. With a happy shout, I cried, "Anchovies!"

* * *

Only it sounded more like "An'o-cho-viss!" Wufei and the waiter both stared at her a moment before launching back into their private discussion. No, Wufei insisted, they would _not_ be having anchovies on their pizza, really--just half plain and half with peppers. Yes. Thank you. No, not even a quarter anchovies. Thank you.

Wumei had gathered what he was saying and looked distinctly disappointed. "I thought everyone liked anchovies."

"They're not as popular as you might think," said Wufei mildly, looking her directly in the eye. She pretended to be very interested in the restaurant's tacky, manufactured chotkes. "Mei. We need to reach a compromise. This isn't going to work if we continue this way."

She considered this, and then nodded. She wanted to come back to the mall. She wanted the clothes she had chosen, not the second-hand ones Wufei had brought her that morning. And thought she didn't like the idea of spending more time with _him,_ she also couldn't stomach imposing herself on Sally longer than necessary. Which left her with this man she had contacted on a random slice of luck, who happened to have been kind enough to rescue her. And now she owed him something--her cooperation, if nothing else. Her dark eyes met his, ready to hear what he had to say.

Wufei forced himself not to blink at her surprising change of heart, and instead carried forward. She might change her mind back at any moment. "You were released on probation into my custody. I told you before that if you stay with me, you can have my spare room, some pocket money. You can go to school, make some friends. We can see if your Mao Genji wants you back--"

"She doesn't," cut in the girl. He stared at her until she went quiet again.

"I have tried, so far, to be good with you. But you're trying my patience, Meir--Wumei." By the dragon, where did that come from? "You can't go running off in public places. I need to know where you are at all times. I need to be able to trust you." The ridiculousness of that didn't escape him. He was telling a teenage prostitute, high school dropout, and probably petty shoplifter, that he needed to trust her. She didn't look too charmed by the idea, either. "We both know you could be in much worse situations right now. Beijing's criminal system is not a forgiving place, and by the sound of it you'd have no advocates on the outside." Taking a deep breath, he finished, "I would very much like to help you, Wumei. I don't know how long that may take or what the outcome will be. But I cannot help you if you fight me at every step."

Wumei looked down into her lap, twisting her fingers around one another. Now the knot in her stomach had returned, full force. This man looked so tired, so worn out. How old could he be, all of thirty? Suddenly she didn't want to be weighing him down, either. Didn't he have his own life to get back to? A job, a girlfriend? He had put all that on hold to get her out of jail, and how had she thanked him? She blinked and felt hot tears rise around the edges of her eyes, not quite ready to spill over yet.

Perhaps she deserved to be in jail.

"...I understand. I'm... sorry, Officer Chang."

Wufei closed his eyes briefly, feeling the breath he had been holding finally leave him. "Call me Wufei. At least when we're at home."


	13. Bits and pieces of history class

**Author's Notes:** At last, a glimpse into Wufei's current lifestyle!

It's a very bizarre feeling posting chapters retroactively... as in, quite a while after they were written. I think I'm in Chapter 18 or 19 right now. It's not like I've EDITED this or anything, I've just let it sit for a bit. That's why there haven't been many notes or comments on these chapters. Sorry!

I do like this chapter, however. Hopefully I'm not alo

-Lady

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

Home was unglamorous, but functional. Mei--damn him, she was beginning to think of herself by the unsophisticated nickname--peered around him carefully as he unlocked the door, both of them laden with shopping bags. After reaching their agreement to be less hotheaded and resistant to one another, they had shared the pizza ("I bet it would be better with anchovies. ...probably.") and made a list of all the things Wumei would need for the next two weeks or more. She had fought for a basic make-up kit, but Wufei insisted that she needed good shoes instead and that she could save her pocket money for make up if it was so important. She had been forced to agree; her old shoes were causing blisters.

The bag with her new high-tops banged against his leg as he opened the door and moved confidently into the living room. He dropped the bags beside the couch and his keys in his pocket, the pocket of the jacket he had finally reclaimed.

Wumei entered and closed the door behind her, drinking in what was now to all intents and purposes her home.

The first thing that struck her was the modesty of the place. The furnishing was minimal, enough for a single occupant and the occasional guest. He didn't have stacks of magazines or half-read newspapers lying about, but the shelves were full of neatly ordered books. An antique armoir's open doors revealed a television, directly opposite a comfortable-looking armchair, beside which sat the only book not in its place. There were open spaces on the shelves, but they weren't filled with much. A medal from the last war, she could recognize by its emblem. A few Chinese antiques. And only one photo frame, its image hidden by glare from the streetlamp outside.

Her benefactor switched on a table lamp and pulled the curtains closed, distracting her. "There are spare hangers in the cupboard. Your shoes can go on the mat." She scrambled to obey, unzipping her new wool coat and stowing it away in the closet. Her boots found a home beside his near the door and she gathered up her shopping bags just in time to follow him down the narrow passageway to the spare room he had promised her a lifetime ago. "This is normally my study," he offered by way of explanation, but her jaw had already dropped. Every wall was lined with stuffed bookshelves and filing cabinets, and a desk sat under the window covered in notebooks and loose papers. Wufei ignored it and went straight to the closet, which he opened and frowned at. "We'll have to move some of this to make room for you," he said, prodding at the boxes and more books lining the shelves. "Tomorrow we'll get you a futon, but tonight I'm afraid it's the couch."

She nodded mutely, staring dumbly at the wealth of material crammed neatly into such a tiny room. Where on Earth had he gotten it all? What did it mean to him? She hadn't taken him for a wannabe professor. "That's fine..."

A set of sheets were pulled from the closet and Wufei swung it shut. He arched an eyebrow at her. "You can leave the bags here, since this will be your room. You can unpack tomorrow." He took a watch the emotions running over her round face. "I'll get you a set of towels." She nodded as he left the room.

Wumei carefully placed her bags before the closet, and then turned back to face the room. She had never seen so many books gathered in a private home before; was he running his own library? Wordlessly she circled the room, her eyes running over titles.

_Accounts of the Eve Wars by Q. R. Winner. The Dove of Peace: A Biography of Relena Peacecraft. The Barton Family Through Time. Mobile Suit Battles From AC100-200. The Colonial Founders and Their Imperial Past. Emperors of China. The Gundam: Modern Man's Dragon, Legendary And Just As Elusive. _These titles meant little to her, but the next caught her attention. _The Saga of the Long Clan, Journey From Earth to the Stars. _She read it again, making sure she had translated it correctly. She had--a book about the Longs! With trepidation, she glanced over her shoulder to see if Wufei had returned before reaching to take the book off the shelf.

"Here you are. I think these will do," he entered without warning, startling a shriek from her. Wufei stared. "What in the name of hell has gotten into you?"

Quickly she shook her head and darted forward to take the towels. "Nothing! You surprised me, that's all. You really should learn to knock now that this is my room," she said with convincing haughtiness.

It seemed to reassure him, and he gave her what was quickly becoming his signature glare. "Laundry is done on Sundays. If it's not in the basket in the bathroom, it doesn't get washed. Towels go in once a month."

"Yes, mother."

Now he scowled outright. "And no backtalk. You're a guest, on probation, in my home, in my office--"

Wumei sighed and nodded. "Yes, yes, I know. Sorry."

"--my hospitality--what?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"...yes. Well. Thank you." He shifted uncomfortably, unsure what to make of this sudden politeness. She looked back at him with an honest expression. _Meiran, I wish you were here to tame this abominable creature._ Meiran was not here, and if she were, she would have nothing to do with this fiasco. He hopes. He cleared his throat. "I'll go make up your bed." He beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Lying on my couch-bed that night, I lay on my side and listened to the darkness. Outside I heard a siren, far away. It had a different pitch to the ones in Beijing, which were nasal and snorted like angry pigs. Here they whined, making sure everyone knew that an emergency was in progress. I supposed that was necessary when you lived in the middle of outer space, only a few sheets of metal between life and destruction. 

An antique clock ticked gently but steadily on a shelf across the room. Every so often I would glance at the face, trying to read it in the dark. I wasn't good at reading analog, but I could. I decided it was more for decoration than use.

No sounds had come from Wufei's room for an hour. I had heard him go to the bathroom, and prepare for bed. I was still awake to see when, after half an hour of pure silence, he turned off his light. Reading, no doubt.

I was never a big reader. Genji Ma said books were expensive, and were to be treasured. As such she only bought me books I could learn from, usually long before I needed them. I had tried on and off to read the dictionary in chunks, but I never made it past page 10.

A car drove past on the road below the apartment, and its headlights cast a wave across the room before disappearing. That, I was familiar with, living a short way from a major road. But an unusual shine cast its own light back momentarily, and I remembered the photograph I had not been able to see earlier.

What better time than now? I pushed aside my secondhand blankets and padded across the living room to the shelves designed for display. I could see the different now between these and those lining the study; that was a workroom, this was a public room. There were no baubles between elegantly spaced leather-bound volumes in there. I ignored these books, and went straight for the frame, tilted away and almost into a corner. There wasn't enough light to see it by, and so with great care I placed by hands on either side, and using only pressure, no fingers, I lifted it from the shelf.

It was heavy and the metal frame was cool. Real glass, I supposed. The velvet backing was short and fuzzy, tantalizing. I brought the frame to the window and tried to catch a beam of light from outside, but that, too, was insufficient. Frowning, I listened again for any signs that Wufei might still be awake. All was quiet.

Still, no reason to take chances. I picked my way through the dark to the bathroom, and placed the frame on the counter before quietly closing the door behind me. The trick was to turn the knob so the little bar didn't bang against the frame while lifting it off its hinges ever so slightly so it didn't squeak. I learned that from necessity, living with Genji Ma. When I was certain I had not disturbed my guardian, I turned on the light.

I had expected to see family, more dour Asian faces glaring back at me just like him. On further consideration, I supposed it should be Sally, his partner and--despite some bickering--friend. But I didn't recognize any of the people in this photograph, and I couldn't imagine the circumstances under which it had been taken.

A younger Wufei stood amid a crowd of men about my age--Odd, I had never considered him as a teenager. They all looked tired, but happy, each in his own way. I lifted the frame to my face, less careful now and more eager to see.

Dead center, a small-framed blond bashfully smiled at the camera, half-turned away as though resisting the lens' pull. Another boy had an arm flung around his shoulders, his other hand lifting an overflowing champagne bottle high into the air. Gusto and exhilaration marked this young man, with his wide eyes and impossibly long hair. To his right stood my Wufei, arms crossed over his chest as he determinedly ignored the clown beside him. I was fascinated--who was this person caught in a photograph?

Neglected on the blonde's far side stood two reluctant figures. One hid behind long bangs, but a ghost of a smile graced his lips. On the photo's far edge, one man's intense blue eyes pulled me toward him, satisfaction in his every line. He was injured, bandages wrapped around his limbs and forehead, but he still stood tall and proud.

Who were they? Schoolmates? No, what school would allow such an injury? Their clothing was as mismatched as their demeanors, they couldn't be comrades. Only one thing they had in common: medals pinned to their chests, each like the one I had noticed on the same shelf from which I had taken this very image.

It was then that bits and pieces of history class filtered back to me. _Five young men came to Earth, armed with powerful mobile suits known as Gundams. They battled the Alliance, defending the people of Earth and the Colonies even when the people despised them..._

That drew a snort from me, and I put the frame back down on the counter. Never. What a daydream. There was no way the gruff and temperamental Wufei, a man I found at random through the prison phonebook, could be a man of importance taught to children all across the world. It just wasn't possible.

I took advantage of already being in the bathroom to relieve myself once more before returning to bed. All the while, the photograph bothered me. Aside from the ridiculous, what could it possibly mean? Perhaps they were local militia, without uniforms, bound together by a common location and goal. They gave medals to such men for bravery, didn't they? Maybe it wasn't so outrageous to see five teenage boys banding together under terrible circumstances. I would seek out others my age if I were thrown into a war.

I made up my mind then to look at the medal closely when I had the chance. There was no sense in worrying about it when the question could be resolved by simply reading. I placed the frame back on the shelf, taking care to line it up as closely to its original position as I could. Hopefully Wufei wouldn't notice. I didn't get the impression that he wanted to look at it much, or why would it be nearly facing into the wall?

As I wriggled back between the sheets on the couch, I considered again the incongruity of the study full of books, and what I could only think of now as Wufei's military past. What scholar signed himself up for war?

What soldier adopted a girl sight unseen?

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Omgxx0rs, yes, Quatre wrote a book! See, this is why I love being older and more mature while writing this stuff. I get to have so much more FUN. (Not like I didn't 5 years ago, but yanno.) For those who want to know "_Accounts of the Eve Wars by Q. R. Winner_" was indeed written by everyone's favorite blond Arab. He wrote it about seven years after the whole Mariemaia bit (remember that Wufei is now 30, so it's a total of 15 years since the series' start). My Liberal Arts brain has been on this bent about recording history, and exploring meaning, and eyewitness testimony and suchlike, so there you go. No, I won't be excerpting it. Yes, you may pinch the title, but only if I get to read it!

Is it signed? Did Quatre send him a complimentary copy? WHO KNOWS what lurks in the mind of Lady Lye?! THE SHADOW KNOWS!

More in a week or two, chicklets.


	14. I expect you’ll drown it in sugar

**Author's Notes: **One thing that's started to bother me as I get older and more practical-minded is that lack of development of how the colonies actually _work_. I mean, that's hardcore sci fi, right there! Why has no one been incorporating that into their fics? Screw the mechas, man!

I put my little brain to use and inferred a lot from the existng GW resources and what I know about our current space exploration and future plans. I hope my sparse explanations are enough to both create the world in your mind, and not confuse you. ;;

...and apologies for a very brief chapter. It seemed like a good idea at the time!

-Lady Lye

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

Saturday didn't dawn so much as fade in, a gray dulled by fog that would become tomorrow's rain. I was the only one who appeared to be bothered by this.

"They can control everything but they still have_ rain?_" I demanded at breakfast, waiting uselessly while Wufei prepared a heavy oat porridge on the stove for us both.

He seemed unusually serene this morning, though. "If there were no rain, how would the plants be refreshed? How would the crops know the changing of the seasons?"

My mouth opened and closed, "Th—there are crops here? Out _here?_"

Wufei nodded, giving the porridge another stir. "The colony is big, Mei. This is the Third Quadrant, mostly city. But the First is mostly farmland. It would be too expensive to import _everything._"

I tried not to gape; it seemed like such an obvious thing, now. "What do they grow?"

"A little of everything," he said carelessly, setting a spoonful aside to cool and taste. "Grains do quite well now that they've found the right combination of synthesized sunlight. Vegetables, though they're not as happy. Tubers, some fruit. L4 is trying to grow some exotics, like oranges."

I looked up at him, alarmed. "You can't get oranges here?!"

"They're very expensive. Fresh ones even more so."

That was certainly a disappointment. I leaned against the kitchen counter, wondering what I would eat if not sticky wedges of tropical fruits. You could pick them off the neighbors' trees in some parts of China. I would miss that.

Not that I planned to stay in space long enough to _really_ miss it.

I turned back to the stove and found Wufei nodded, the spoon leaving his lips. "I expect you'll drown it in sugar, but it's ready."

Wufei was surprised to find himself conversing so easily in the old language. He had grown up completely bilingual, of course—Chinese was a part of the Chang legacy, but to survive every child needed to learn the common tongue, a mutant of English that had, over the years, absorbed anything and everything it found useful. The war had forced him to use it constantly, and by the time he signed on with the Preventors he was better than fluent. He knew he could still speak Chinese, of course, he and Sally would conduct their most secretive business meetings in it, but the ease with which he spoke to Wumei now was a pleasant surprise.

It took some prodding to get her to set the table while he instructed her, but a sea change seemed to have set in. The sullen, contentious teenager was no longer fighting him at every step. She had apologized last night, and he had to admit, the rest of their evening had come close to… well, neither enjoyable nor relaxing, but certainly not painful.

Not that she was ready to give up fighting entirely. "Why is your office so full of books?" she asked, nearly demanding, as though he had done something unsuitable.

Wufei snorted and filled both their bowls with the hot oats. "It's customary to keep your tools in your workspace. I believe that's international."

She scowled. "Yes, but why so _many?"_She couldn't work out what it was about the room that bothered her so, but she had found mysteries enough and she needed to put at least one of them aside.

"Put these on the table," he said, handing her the bowls. She held them in the air, waiting for a reply. When he didn't, she huffed and did as she was asked. "I like to read. I like to learn."

"Those looked almost like textbooks. Who likes to read textbooks?"

"Not textbooks, most of them." Wufei sought the right word, dredging the translation up from his past. "Texts, yes. Research. Books written by experts in their fields."

She looked at him skeptically. "These aren't textbooks, how?"

"They're not meant for teaching. They're meant for other scholars to read. It's a way of sharing your theories."

"Oh." Wumei took her seat, letting him finish up in the kitchen and allowing him to sit before asking another question. "How is a biography a theory?"

He puzzled through her pronunciation before responding. "It's pronounced BI-og-raphy, not bio-graphy. Those can have theories, too. Some message they're trying to prove." Calmly, he added honey to his oats, with just a touch of milk. She watched him, her mind on other things, before tasting her own bowl. She grimaced and quickly began doctoring her own mix. "It's about interpretation."

"Ah." Wumei stirred her bowl, watching the glutinous mush loosen and become more liquid as she added honey and milk in great spoonfuls. Wufei was about to warn her of this, when she threw out a question he had not been expecting. "How old were you during the Eve Wars?"

He put down his spoon, no longer interested, and stared at her. "How old was I?"

She nodded, unperturbed. "I know they were a long while ago—but not _that _long ago."

Wufei put aside thoughts of breakfast and errands turned all his attention on her. "They were both a very long time ago, and also a mere moment ago."

She gave him an odd look. "That's what I said."

"I was fifteen when the wars began."

"And when they ended?"

"Going on seventeen."

Now it was her turn to look at him strangely. "There's no way you're my father."

That, too, was disgruntling! Wufei was losing patience now. "What are you talking about?"

"Genji Ma said my father was a great _man,_" 'Mei said insistently. "She said he was highly trained and wise and that he died defending our family home. Not some scrawny teenager." She ignored the memory of the photo she had looked at last night; scrawny was not the word that came to mind for that boy. She also chose to ignore the color and—anger?—growing on his pale face. "They don't let boys in the army. Boys aren't that brave or smart. I should know, I go to school with them!"

Wufei was furious. Utterly furious. It was the same damn argument all over again—the same derision he had faced every say since his descent to Earth for the very first time, since he tried to interact with adults as an adult.

But he would not be disrespected in his own home by a girlchild who no doubt that _she_, at fifteen, was a perfect grown up!

His flattened palm banged against the table, making their cutlery jump, and Wumei with it. She was startled into looking at him, and then couldn't look away.

She had crossed some kind of line, that was obvious. If only she knew where.

"There were boys in that war. There are _always_ boys in war. They sneak in, or they're conscripted, but they are always there. They fight, and sometimes they die, and sometimes they _win,"_ the intensity in his eyes was frightening; he pinned her to her seat, consuming her focus. "Do not underestimate young men, Wumei. They will always surprise you. Most young men your age are better equipped to handle a war right now than you may ever be. And should it come to that—the gods forbid—your life will be dependent on them." Her eyes were large as a terrified deer's. He tossed his napkin on the table and stood. He was no longer hungry. "We'll go get you a futon when you're done eating. I'm going to take a shower."

The tension did not leave the small space when he did, and the girl remained motionless for several long minutes, listening to the water run at the far end of the apartment.

Hells below, what had she said?


	15. Test it, See if you like it

**Author's Notes: **Just so we're clear, I do know that 'aiya' is pretty mild, and not even a full-out curse/swear word. It's an interjection that can mean many things, and is very Chinese. Mei reacts as much to Wufei's losing his cool and to his use of that particular word. When he says "Aiya!" he's pretty much declaring his Chinese-ness. W00t!**  
**

This chapter brings in some more familiar faces, so read on!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen **

I was careful when we went to the store. I stayed close, not wanting to set off his alarms again... but I also kept a wary distance. His hackles were still up, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

Even his ponytail looked frazzled.

He lead the way inside the large shop without a word; I hoped that this was better than an alternative of lectures. Already I felt foolish, calling him a boy. I hadn't gotten to look at the medal yet. Wasn't I contradicting myself, to think he might've been in that war long enough to earn a medal--while he was only a boy? It crouched uncomfortably in the back of my mind, and I tried to ignore it.

Thankfully, _Murray's Sit'n Snooze_ was an education in Western furnishing.

For miles around, futons, of every description. Low, squat futons, high-backed futons, plush futons, minimalist futons. Futons designed like their Asian predecesors and futons disguised in Western sofas and loveseats. Colorful, demure; I must have been staring, because a sales person immediately slid around Wufei to beam at me and inquire. I shook my head, not able to keep up with her. She blinked but her smile didn't fade. "What are you looking for, today?"

Wufei descended with a scowl. "A wall-hugger. Sturdy. Something to match dark wood, neutral fabric."

Again the woman blinked, but this time she was definately startled. "...I think we can find something that will suit your needs, sir. Please follow me." She showed us to a corner of the showroom marked by these... 'wall-huggers.' I managed to put two and two together on sight--they had shallow seats and high backs, so they 'hugged the wall' and left my floor room. Fine by me: it was a small enough room as it was. I trailed behind them like a lost puppy, listening absently as Wufei badgered the woman for details.

"What fabric does this come in? Can this withstand long-term use?" He looked askance at anything that might be bad for my back--or, you know, _comfortable_--and demanded that this futon be of a sturdy, dull material that wouldn't stain and didn't look at all fun.

I eyed the array of multicolored slipcovers with envy.

"Mei. Come here." Sigh. At his beck and call. I trotted over. He pointed imperiously at a boring beige futon, elegant, dark wood holding it up in simple lines. "Test this one."

"Excuse me?"

"Test it. See if you like it."

I tipped my head to one side, not sure I had heard him correctly. "See if I... what?"

* * *

He was getting impatient. "If you like it. If it's comfortable. Can you sleep on it?" Such a simple question, and she was looking at him like he had three heads. The saleswoman looked between them, lost in the Chinese garble. 

Wumei eyed the futon, and then her guardian. "I guess so."

"No, _test it._ Sit on it. Lie on it. See if you can move it," Wufei said with exasperation. To demonstrate, he himself sat and waved her to the other end. "Well?"

The man was mad. That had to be it. He did not seriously want her opinion on a new piece of furniture, that would cost hundreds of colony dollars, did he? It would stand in his home, in his office--but it was her room, now. At least for the next two weeks. She sat.

The saleswoman promptly turned her smile back on. "It's very comfortable, isn't it? My sister got one last year, everyone always fights to sit on it." Wufei's expression showed that he doubted that. "The mechanism is very smooth, too. If you'll both just stand for a moment..." They did, and she fiddled with something on the futon's left. It slid flat with an easy motion, and Wufei waved the teenager onto the new bed.

She sat, bouncing experimentally. It stayed put, a good sign. While the woman prattled on, she swung her feet up and lay down, trying to imagine what it would be like to sleep on this strange bed every night. A difficult task with a flourescent light panel staring back at her from the ceiling.

"Well? Is it comfortable?" Wufei was leaning over her.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to be looking for. I've never bought a bed before." The honesty surprised ever her, and she waited for his response.

The saleswoman looked nervous, but Wufei sighed and motioned for Wumei to scoot over. "Let me try it." She hopped up and let him lie down. He folded his arms atop his stomach and closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the beginnings of meditation. Yes, this bed would do. She had no complaints, and neither did he.

"This brand is on sale right now..."

"We'll take it."

She was then subjected to waiting. The floor model was not for sale (and nor would Wufei have wanted it if it were--too used) and so they had to see what was in stock. The warehouse on the other side of the colony didn't have a model in the colors they wanted. Wufei and the saleswoman spent an hour phoning the other carriers to see if they had one.

Wumei, meanwhile, flipped through the catalogs and imagined what she would buy if she were not tied to Wufei and his one-man apartment.

She'd get her own room, of course. Without anyone else's things in it. In Beijing, Genji Ma had kept all their winter clothes at the top of Wumei's closet. It would be nice to have a space all to herself. She wouldn't get a boring futon, either. She would have a proper bed--one with a sweeping canopy, like a princess--with soft sheets and big pillows covered with embroidered flowers. A _huge_ closet to hold all of her clothes. (She would need to thank Wufei again for them. He had given her more freedom to choose than she really deserved that night. Perhaps a show of gratefulness now would help to calm his temper after their fight this morning.) Oh, and make-up! A vanity, with a big mirror and lights, like the professionals, with drawers ad drawers for all her things. Jewelry, too. She'd have purple walls, and stick posters up everywhere! Genji Ma said it peeled the paint, so she had pasted things up inside her closet instead. There were some photographs in that closet that she would miss... was missing right now...

Wufei approached, triumphant. "They'll have it delivered by tonight. Lets go." So much for her daydream.

They remained quiet on the drive back. The radio reported the day's news, and rain began to patter down against the windshield. Wumei wriggled down in her seat, letting her new coat swallow her up. Her eyes drifted out the window, and then to what served as the colony's ceiling-cum-sky. Gray clouds drifted in the upper reaches, obscuring the light bulbs, pipes, and air vents that could usually be seen. For a few minutes she entertained the notion that she might be on Earth again, and when the clouds blew away she would see blue skies.

"...You can expect dim lighting over the Theta neighborhood tomorrow, as maintenance crews will be working on a ruptured air vent over the district. Residents are advised to stay alert and carry flashlights with them..." said the radio announcer, squashing her second daydream. With a sigh, she returned her gaze to street level.

Wufei, meanwhile, was brooding. Guilt over the severity of his outburst was beginning to set in, and hunger gnawed at his gut. _Weak._ He shouldn't have let his temper take control so easily. He glanced across the car to the teenager staring glumly out the window. She had made concessions, tried to meet him halfway. Then she had struck a nerve, and he may well have undone all the fragile bonds they were starting to create.

He sighed through his nose and turned toward home. What was he going to do with her for the next two weeks? How could he possibly be expected to look after her? Well, no one had asked it of him--he had brought it on himself.

The phone in his pocket began to ring, a short, precise chirp. Wumei looked up as he pressed the blinking dashboard light, turning on the car's speakerphone so he could continue to drive with both hands. "Chang, here."

"Wufei, hello! This is Hilde." Wufei's eyes widened and he stopped a tch too hastily at the light.

"Schbeiker?" he croaked, ignoring the strange look 'Mei was giving him.

"Yes, Schbeiker. I work with Duo, remember?"

Tonelessly, "I remember."

"Good," her voice sounded more relaxed, as though she had been afraid that he wouldn't. "Listen, we're looking to expand Hands of Maxwell to the L5 cluster. Duo was hoping we could stop by where you are and see you."

Wufei's head spun, and he nearly missed the light again. Hands of Maxwell? Of course, Duo's charity, an orphanage and school for needy and homeless street children. To be honest, Wufei hadn't quite believed that Duo was making himself so useful until last year, when the braided nitwit had shown up on network television across the Sphere. "Things are going well, then?"

"Very well." There was a smile in her voice. "So, when will you be free? We're arriving on X5-200 on Monday, and--you're on X5-700, right? We'll be there Thursday..."

"Aiyaaaaa..." the curse slipped out between his teeth before he could think to stop it. Wumei's head whipped around instantly, eyes alight with keen fascination and joy: always fun to see the teacher make a mistake! He waved at her impatiently and made some quick plans in his head. "I don't think I can do that, Schbeiker. Une is putting pressure on Po and me to solve this case, and I've already taken my vacation time for this year." _And I have a teenage ward living in my spare room!_

Now she sounded distressed. "Oh, Wufei... Are you sure you can't? We could extend the trip... through the weekend, maybe?"

_NO!_ That was worse! His voice sounded strangled even to his ears. "No. We _Preventors _don't own our weekends. I may be needed."

Wumei was looking at him with a face that clearly read 'You are a lying scum. And not even a _good_ lying scum.' It was Saturday and he hadn't mentioned going in to work once! Sally hadn't seemed at all worried about that big case--Hammerstein, wasn't it? Who was this woman, and why were Wufei's neck and cheeks turning red? Feeling a pang of sympathy, she cracked her window.

"Are you sure?" Hilde asked sadly. "Not even one day? Duo has been looking forward to this, Wufei... Really, he has... He misses everyone fr-"

There was a scuffle with the phone and then a new voice, male, came in clearly. "Don't listen to the babe, she's always getting sentimental about the old days. How are you, man?"

"Maxwell," replied Wufei formally, his face returning to its usual pallor. "I hear your business is doing well."

"Yeah, those news spots really helped. I don't quite know what to do with all the money and volunteers, tell you the truth. Listen, I do want to see you, since we'll be in town. The schedule's still kinda flexible, so how's this? We'll fly in Thursday night--tired off our asses, I'm sure--see the businessy people Friday, and Saturday you take us on a real tour, huh?"

"Maxwell--"

"Come on! It'll be fun! How long has it been, huh? Too long! _Hilde, stop that--I am not being sentimental!"_

Wufei stared straight ahead at the road. He hated feeling pressured. He hated it even worse when Maxwell was involved. The idea became progressively worse when Hilde's presence was added. No. There was no way he could do this. Not now, not ever. He opened his mouth to say so when he felt a small hand on his shoulder.

"Chang," said Wumei, her face sincere, "you want to see them, don't you?"

* * *

**AN:** That's right! That's right! We gots DUO IN DA HOUSE. When I started this story I swore to myself that I wouldn't pull in every single character just so they could all have appearances--but they stuck their noses in anyway! There are a few more lined up, so you can have fun speculating about that. 

Hands of Maxwell is something I came up with when writing Blessed Don Juan ( a story about Dorothy's introspective new life after the Eve Wars. Duo started HoM after Deathscythe was destroyed, declaring that anything else he did he would do 'with his own two hands.' He began by volunteering with existing organizations--building houses and such--and then gravitated towards his real soft spot, homeless kids. He began his own group, HoM, to aid the homeless children of L2 with food, shelter, and education. As stated, a few well-placed news spots have made him something of a media darling and the donations have started rolling in. Hilde makes sure he gets to all the meetings on time and doesn't offend anyone too terribly.

Of course, the questions on EFF'RYone's mind: Are Duo and Hilde together with a bunch of toddlers and dogs at home? What will they do if/when they spot Mei? Will Wufei ever stop blustering? You'll have to keep reading to see!


	16. The girl puffed up like an offended bird

Sorry for the huge delays in actually posting. There's something like 10 more chapters waiting to be put up, but I keep telling myself I should wait between each one. I'm greedy for reviews. :-D

Anyway, this one's a bit short, sorta fluffy, but I promise I'll be quicker about the next one, k? Review-encouragement/nagging is always appreciated.

-Lady

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

They had dinner with Sally on Sunday night. She arrived at Wufei's door with a half-cooked lasagna and sat Wumei at the table with a large block of cheese and a grater. Then she pulled Wufei into the living room and forced him to speak to her.

"You look pale as a ghost. Has it really been that bad?" she asked worriedly. "I haven't come over because I thought you needed time to get to know each other, work out the bumps--"

Wufei shook his head. "That isn't the problem. It is a problem, but something worse is happening. Maxwell and Schbeiker are coming for a business visit next weekend."

At first Sally looked overjoyed--and then the full implications cast her face into horror. "To visit?"

"Yes. They want to abduct me for all of Saturday," he replied sourly. Not for the first time, he wished that he kept a supply of alcohol in the house. "'Take us on a tour!' were Maxwell's words."

"Aiya."

"That's what I said."

A timer pinged in the kitchen. "What should I do?" called Wumei from the other room.

"That's the bread. Open the foil and put it back on for another five minutes," Wufei shouted back. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. Worry had kept him up last night. "What am I going to do with her? She was in the car with me when they called, she knows someone's coming."

"Has she asked who they are?"

"Not in so many words. We're not really... speaking, at the moment."

"Wufei," Sally tsked. "What did you do?"

"Why must it be something _I_ did, onna?" he snapped irritably. "She should learn to think before she opens her mouth."

Sally shook her head. "You let something a teenager said get to you? Really, Wufei."

"She insulted me!"

"That's what teenagers _do_ to their guardians."

"Did she say anything bad about you when she stayed with you?"

"Well, no. But I didn't treat her like a convict."

That stung. Wufei retrieved a set of meditation balls from their carved box on a shelf and ran them across the surface of his palms, listening to their chime. "Will you take her on Saturday?"

Sally shook her head. "I already made plans with a friend. She's getting married next month."

"K'so." The balls were a comforting weight, but they offered no solutions. "Do they still do Saturday detentions?"

"Wufei!" Sally scolded. "You want to keep her _out_ of detention. Speaking of which, how's her homework?"

Er. Homework? Oh, yes. "Mei! Come here!"

"I'm not done with the cheese!"

"It can wait. Come here."

She ambled in, one hand held awkwardly away from her so she wouldn't get cheese grease on her shirt. "What?"

"Where is your homework?" Wufei asked imperiously.

She scowled. "In my bag."

"Is it done?"

"Yes, it's done. What do you think I did all yesterday?"

"Laid around on that new futon."

"It isn't _that_ comfortable!"

Sally cut in hastily before things could continue to escalate. "Wumei, would you mind showing me your work after dinner? I'm curious to see what classes they put you in."

Wumei eyed them both and then nodded. "Ok. Can I go back to the cheese now?"

Wufei made a shooing motion and she returned to the kitchen, rolling her eyes.

"See, that's what I'm talking about," said Sally.

"What?"

"That!"

* * *

I didn't want to show either of them my homework. Mostly because I knew so much of it was wrong. True to my word, I had spent a good chunk of time yesterday and that morning working on it. The futon was quite comfortable, but it didn't help me understand the heavy-handed English texts. Apparently my new school believed in sink-or-swim. They were tossing me into the deep end to see how well I could float. They had promised that when their Chinese translator returned from vacation—a _honeymoon_ that had just been extended so they could visit relatives--I would have extra tutoring, but that didn't help me until she did.

Numbers were fairly simple. Reading the assigned novel was laborious, but interesting. It was everything else that tripped me up. I could only understand half the words in most textbooks, even with the help of a monstrously large dictionary perched precariously on a bookshelf in the study. The history lesson seemed to run at cross purposes to what I had learned in China, and I was utterly baffled by the grammar assignment from my essay writing class. I was hoping Wufei would ignore my schooling now that he had me enrolled, but if he _and_ Sally were going to take an interest in it... I excused myself shortly after dinner (lasagna: a strange, unpronounceable pile of pasta, meat, and cheese with unexplainable appeal) to look over my work before either of them saw it.

Try as I might, I couldn't see anything new to add. I knew my answers were wrong, but I couldn't see how to make them right. I winced, imagining Wufei's response. The room he had given over to me was proof that he was an educated man. Our culture demanded excellence in all things, but especially in the academic arena. I was about to go tumbling into the sand, face first. Maybe I shouldn't have started cutting classes in Beijing.

Well. Then I wouldn't be sitting here in the first place, would I?

Sally knocked gently at the door, pushing it open slightly so I could just see her face. "Wumei? May I see your homework?"

What more did I have to lose? I nodded and made room for her on the futon, which hugged the wall of bookshelves.

She sat beside me and took the notebook I offered her. Her eyebrows knit together almost immediately, and I resigned myself to a horrible evening. School in the morning would seem like a respite.

Sally leafed through my work, and then laid it down. "How much English did you learn in China?" she asked, using Chinese, as she always did when she spoke to me.

"Not enough," I said, looking down into my lap.

"Neither did I."

I raised my eyes, confused. "You didn't what?"

"Learn much English in China. Not at school, anyway. I learned enough to pass my exams, and then the army brought me up to speed. I speak fluently now." Her calm blue eyes didn't feel mocking; they made me think of hope.

"You... grew up in China? On Earth?"

"Yes. I know I don't look like it," Sally smiled, fingering her blond coils. "I'm not full-blooded Chinese, obviously." Now I could see the features--the tilt of her eyes, her skin, her mouth.

I shifted unhappily. "I'm not going to pass my classes at this rate." _And then Wufei will kick me out._ That thought surprised me--I hadn't realized that I wanted to stay with him quite so much. Or maybe not with him. Maybe just... here. Not in China.

Sally was nodding, though, like she understood. "Wufei should speak to your teachers. You should be enrolled in ESL--English as a Second Language. It'll help you catch up." She picked up a worksheet and smiled. "At least math is international."

I smiled back.

* * *

Wufei cleared his throat from the doorway. "Will she pass?" he asked, in English.

Sally sobered. "Perhaps. Not without a translator, though."

"They say they'll have one by next Friday." They exchanged messages with their eyes again. Wumei squirmed. He glanced at her and sighed. "We'll work it out then. I'll help you tomorrow, Mei."

The girl puffed up like an offended bird. "I don't need your help."

And just like that, they were back to squabbling. "You need to pass."

"Who says?"

"The parole board! The school! Colleges! Employers!"

"I can get a job!"

"You are not going back to the streets!"

"I could! Make better money there than working behind a store counter!"

Shaking her head, Sally stood and went to fix dessert.

* * *

(Nope, that's the end! Review!) 


	17. Biology sucks!

Woah! Chapter 16 got a bigger response than I thought it would! (4... and a PM... FFN is a lot slower than it was 5 years ago...) ahem So, _thank you_, everyone.

As I said, there are a bunch of chapters already written just waiting to be posted. Actually, they're waiting to get the red pen before posting. I had one of those, 'Wait, that doesn't make sense...' moments. I hate those!! ...sometimes being a critical reader/writer sucks. Le sigh.

I know, I know, I know... I owe y'all.

-Lady

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**

Luckily, the school seemed ready and willing to help Wumei catch up. They enrolled her in a supervised study hall where she could get help from fellow students, teachers, and eventually the bilingual aide, when she returned from Dear Aunt Millie's. Wufei was relieved, even if his charge protested mightily.

"It's like a preschool in that room! You know they have cardboard dinosaurs on the wall? Those kids are dumb! I am not dumb, Chang!"

To which he would reply with an open stare. "What grade did you get on last night's homework?" All she could say to that was to huff and stalk back to her room.

It was Wednesday night before Wumei's eye fell once more on the book bearing her maternal family name. _The Saga of the Long Clan, Journey From Earth to the Stars._ Wufei was reading in the living room, classical music swelling from the stereo. She listened at the door for several minutes before drawing the courage to silently close her door and creep back to the bookshelf.

Her presence could now be felt in the room. Space had been made in the closet to hold her clothes, her shoes piled neatly at the bottom. Wufei had generously donated two shelves from his bookcases to her use, where she now kept her schoolbooks and personal possessions... which weren't much just yet, but the new alarm clock and a stuffed turtle from China made her feel in control when she saw them.

She pulled the book from its shelf and settled onto the futon, which was now quite a bit more ruffled than when it had first arrived in the apartment. It was her preference not to bother turning the thing back into a chair every day, as it would just have to become a bed at night, but Wufei insisted. "Discipline, Mei. You need to learn some. Your bed will be made, your clothes will be hung, and you will help make at least one meal every day." That was a minor list compared to what Wufei wanted her ultimately to do: he wanted her doing chores that would help her get used to functioning on her own. It was his fear that she would be taken from him, or leave, before she was ready to take care of herself. At Sally's wise insistence he had agreed to phase Wumei into those many tasks, but he did require that she did the few chores he had given her well.

Right then, she didn't care. She was going to learn something about her maternal family's history.

She opened the heavy cover and paged to the table of contents. Her heart skipped with delight. It began in China's ancient history, thousands of years ago, and moved through time to the present. Six hundred and fourty-nine pages of history. Her kin. Eagerly, she dove into the introduction... and soon found herself lost in the complex words. Genealogy? Biogeographical? Calendar synchronisity? What were they talking about? The author appeared to be saying that gathering the information for the book had been difficult. Well, with all those words thrown in, it must have been! Sensing a headache in her near future, Wumei skipped a few paragraphs, to the point where the family name was mentioned more often.

_The Long clan rose to power in the late 21st century (Common Era). They held political sway over much of Eurasia, and were influential in China's rejection of the growing movement toward a unified Earth government. However, this did not save them in the years to come. The new era (After Colony) brought about radical changes in Chinese thought, and the Longs became an object of fear and suspicion. In AC174 they were exiled to the aging colony A0206, and isolated from their previous allies and funds. Only a few other clans chose to go with them, but their dreams of re-establishing the Longs as a powerful force in the Earth sphere dwindled quickly, as no heir has been born to the surviving generations. It is unlikely that a suitable male will be born, and the clan may effectively die out before the end of the century--_

Wumei stopped reading, and stared across the room, unable to believe what she had just read. The clan was dying? When was this book written? She flipped back to the very beginning and found the copyright date. AC178. That seemed rather soon to be writing off an entire generation! Wasn't it? Worry chewed at her gut. She knew the clan was gone, but this book treated their fate with civil cruelty. Somehow, the distanced tone made her feel the pain as she never had before.

With trembling fingers, she turned to the last few chapters, dated After Colony era. There she found a more detailed account, highlighting the clan leaders, their allies, and the shifts in power that had occurred. After their move to the colony, the clan had been broken back to basics. The colony was old, one of the originals launched in the early days of space colonization, and in need of desperate repairs. Most of the clan's funding had gone to making the colony livable. The pre-existing inhabitants were grateful, but the Longs and their supporters felt stunted, wronged. As she turned the pages, Wumei felt their anger and frustration rising within her. As she reached the last male heir's name, one Long Yukun, she felt a shiver pass through her tensed and frail frame. _Surely,_ a voice in the back of her mind whispered, _surely he was young enough to have a child, still... In AC195...?_ With trepidation, she ran her finger to his birth date and a pained howl escaped her. Born AC134! He would have been an old man when she was born! How could a man in his 60s have sired her? She threw the book to the ground, repulsed and confused.

"Mei? Wumei!" It was Wufei, stopping his music, coming to check on her.

She kicked the book under the futon and leapt for her homework. "Uh--Aaaaugh! I hate this homework! Biology... sucks!"

He opened the door and stuck his head in, concern wrinkling his forehead. "You're having trouble?"

"Yes! Yes! Lots of trouble! This homework. I can't do it!" Belatedly, she picked up her textbook and let it drop to the floor with an anticlimactic thud.

"Maybe I can help--"

"No! It's--it's stupid. I just can't read it."

"We could call Sally..."

"Aiya, don't bother her! I'll be fine, really. Just--frustrated. You know." She gave him her best 'I am a silly teenager with crazy mood swings, whoo!' smile. He didn't look reassured. "I'll try to be quieter. I promise."

"Call if you change your mind," he said warily, and pulled the door shut again.

Wumei let out her breath with a whoosh. So close! She tipped her head against the futon's high back and sighed, letting her muscles relax one by one. Why hadn't she wanted him to catch her reading? Was it just because it was his book? No, if he hadn't wanted her to touch them, he would have said something--right? Most people would have. Maybe because it was _this _book? Well, it was important to her, but did that necessarily mean it had special meaning to him as well? She ran her eye over the shelves again, trying to find a pattern. Like her troublesome homework, none emerged. He seemed interested in everything to do with history, China, and the recent wars. Well, then he shouldn't be upset about her looking at a book that dealt with those things, should he?

Tenderly, she lifted the book from its hiding place, apologizing to it for the maltreatment. Never had she felt so protective of anything before. She felt this book held a key to something significant, if she could only figure out what.

This time she skipped around throughout the thick volume. The Longs had originated far from her home in Beijing. They migrated there as they gained more influence; she wondered if her parents had ever spent time there. Perhaps that was too much to ask. That old man, on the other hand... She shuddered once more. Wicked curiosity forced her to return to those pages, and she found herself facing a photograph of Long Shirn. His face was round, young, and imperious. Defiant. It was dated AC156. She sighed, shifted position on the futon, and the pages at the back, too light to stay in place, fell across to the left, leaving her facing a long and intricate tangle of lines and names. She leaned in closely and squinted.

Ah! A family tree! Eagerly, she searched for the names highlighted throughout the book. Yes, there was the man who made the Longs famous across China... There was the first Long to become an advisor to the Emperor. There was the Long who defied the Romefeller Foundation... and there was Long Yukun, right at the very bottom of the tree. She brought the heavy book closer to her face to read the small text. His name connected horizontally to another's, a woman's. So he was married. That bode... well. But there were no vertical lines coming from their union: no children.

Wumei bit her lip. No children. The last Long heir had been too old to sire a child... and so they had created one in a lab on Earth, in Genji Ma. And died before they could see her emerge, a disappointing girl-child.

She closed the book. She had had enough skulking through dusty archives for one night. As she replaced it on the shelf, she resolved not to do any more poking around. So far she hadn't liked anything she had found, and Wufei hadn't liked her insinuations, either. She returned to the futon to give her biology homework another shot, when a white paper square on the floor caught her attention.

* * *

I was exhausted. I wanted nothing more of investigation or dark pasts. Wufei could keep his stupid medal on his stupid shelf for a thousand years for all I cared. But the paper hadn't been on the floor before, and so I needed to pick it up, if only to throw it away. The paper was thin in my hands, like rice paper, with one sticky strip along its back. And on one side were words in careful, precise English. 

_Long Meiran, b. April 7th, AC180, Colony A0206.  
m. Chang Wufei, January 18th, AC194.  
d. June 23rd, AC194. _

I flipped it to its other side, looking for an explanation, but there was none. _Long Meiran._ I knew that name. Like Chang Wufei, I had seen it a thousand times on official forms, tucked into a box with no real meaning behind it. Chang Wufei. His name was here as well. I hauled the book off the shelf again and compared them to the tree. Aiya. It stopped at 178, remember? If Meiran was born in 180, she wouldn't appear here. New hope fluttered in my chest. Couldn't _she_ be Yukun's daughter, at a reasonable age? Yes! Yes, and--

_"Dad? …if you are my Dad… and- I know that's not really likely… But- you-" _

The book slammed closed of its own volition, and I shoved it back into place. It slipped in my sweaty hands; my throat pulsed with every beat of my heart. I backed away from the shelf, eyes darting between the book and the little tab of paper sticking out of its top. Suddenly, I didn't want to learn _anything_ more about the Longs, or Yukun, or myself. I didn't want to learn about the people with names like my so-called parents'.

All I wanted right then was a shower, and homework be damned.

My things already had a space in the bathroom. I grabbed my pajamas and a clean pair of panties and barreled across the hallway, slamming the bathroom door behind me. I ignored the muffled sound of Wufei calling my name. What did he know, anyway? The water needed to be hot. Very, very hot. Hot enough to steam up my reflection in the mirror, so I couldn't see the eyes that looked back at me from his face every day. So I wouldn't have to think about the woman named Meiran, and whether I had her chin or her hands.

I couldn't strip fast enough, but I was careful to keep my back to the mirror. It stared at my shoulders, at my buttocks, daring me to ask. I plunged behind the shower curtain and stuck my face beneath the stream of hot water, needing that cleansing bite.

It was so hot that when the tears began to come, they actually felt cool against my cheeks.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Yes, I played around with the dates. Stupid canon manga only gives years, not months or days. 

**BONUS:** I'm working on a rather lengthy GW doujinshi with a friend... I write the script, she heads the art. And we need more artists to help get this thing done. Capiche? If you know of anyone, or are interested yourself, head over to the info blog: **http://post-war-chronicles. **No art yet, will let you know when that does go up. Yes, it will have Wufei! (No Mei, though... :( Totally different ideas.)


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